Malkin Academy: The Cup of Kings
by Dr. Platypus
Summary: Could the oldest wizarding school in America hide a weapon that would have made Voldemort unbeatable? The daughter of the young wizard who almost solved the mystery needs to know—before the answer destroys her family! A celebration of American wizardry.
1. Sixteen Years Ago

Most people along a particular stretch of Seven Mile Road assumed the cracking sound was a car backfiring far away, or maybe fireworks. It was, after all, the fifth of July—surely not too late for fireworks after the people of Detroit had heard them now for nearly a week. Some feared it was the sound of gunfire and sprung from their beds to check on their sleeping children.

In fact, the sound was something few would have expected. It was the appearance out of thin air of a lone figure. He was slender, of average height, and quite old. His long white hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and he wore a gray suit and walked with a plain wooden cane. His name was Athanasius Towne, and he was on a mission. He pushed his wire-rim glasses higher on his nose and glanced around the empty street until his eyes rested on a shabby looking bar—the only business still open at this hour.

He crossed the street and reached to open the door when out barged a couple of figures far stranger looking than himself. They were each about four and a half feet tall. Despite the July heat they wore furry black boots. Most unsettling of all, there was something not entirely human about their faces. Their eyes were set close together and deep in their sockets. Their noses were unusually long, thin, and red. Their bearded chins seemed improbably weak. From the correct angle, they would have looked more like baboons than humans. Even so, Mr. Towne showed not the slightest surprise to see them. The tiny figures started when they saw him, however. They pushed past him, eyeing him suspiciously and whispering to each other in hushed, nervous tones.

The rest of the bar's clients were almost as odd. Two women in tall pointed hats sat at a corner table chatting. A man in a shiny green robe sat at the bar conversing with the bartender as he toyed with a glass of smoking red liquid.

The old stranger noticed the man in the corner. He sat alone in a booth, reading a newspaper but clearly keeping an eye on everything happening around him. Mr. Towne approached. This secretive man was broad shouldered and wore a plain dark suit. His beard was neatly trimmed and his upper lip clean-shaven. He seemed entirely out of place in a bar. He would likely have seemed out of place nearly anywhere but an old country churchyard.

The old man sat down across from him.

"Good evening, Jacob."

He continued to pretend to read his paper.

"Your partner told me you'd be at the Wendigo Inn."

Jacob still didn't answer. A waitress came by to refresh the big man's coffee and take the newcomer's drink order. He asked for a butterbeer and a bowl of peanuts. Then he turned his attention back to the unspeaking man.

"I take it you're interested in the red dwarves?"

The man called Jacob put down his paper. His coffee snarled and quivered as he poured in a dollop of cream. "They prefer '_nains rouges_.' It sounds better in French, I guess. They've been on edge for a month."

"And they do seem to have an uncanny ability to foresee catastrophes," the old man added. "The Auror Division is smart to keep tabs on them."

"That's why I'm here," Jacob volunteered.

"And yet, if you received my owl you already know what has set them off. And why they've gotten worse in the past week and a half."

The waitress returned with the butterbeer and the peanuts. The old man pushed a gold coin toward her and told her to keep the change.

"I read your letter. But I also know what they're saying in the British papers. But I take it _you_ believe it?"

"I do."

"The kid seems a little shifty to me."

"Jacob, unless I'm mistaken every 'kid' in the world seems a little shifty to you. I, of course, have never met the boy—although I'm sure we're both familiar with his story."

The bearded man shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He took a sip of his coffee, then grimaced as he forced a swallow.

"You never answered my letter. I need to know your decision."

He leaned forward, glancing around to see whether anyone else was listening. "Mr. Towne," he said. "You don't want me to teach at your school. I'm an Auror, not a teacher. I never even liked school…"

"Yes, I recall that rather vividly," the old man interrupted.

"…I can't stay cooped up behind a desk. I wouldn't know a lesson plan if it jumped up and kissed me. And trust me, you wouldn't want me attending staff meetings."

"Is there anything else?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact." He clenched and unclenched his fist. "I don't like children. Actually, let me rephrase that. I can't stand them. I like orderliness, discipline. Children and orderliness go together about as well as lapiths and centaurs."

The old man paused long enough to take a sip of his butterbeer.

"I understand, Jacob, that I am asking a lot of you. Please don't assume that I make my request lightly. The fact is, however, I fear for the safety of my students. I would be much obliged if you would join the faculty, for their sake. We need someone like you. Someone who'll keep his eyes open for trouble—and who knows what to look for."

Jacob grumbled. After a long silence he said, "So you really believe what the boy is saying?"

"I have no reason to believe him or disbelieve him, Jacob. But Dumbledore? I both know him and trust his judgment. If he says there is reason to believe that You-Know-Who has returned, then that is good enough for me."

"I still don't like this. What about Louis?"

"I'm sure your partner will carry on without you. I take it he's very good."

"One of the best."

"Yes, his wife brags on him quite a bit. And I'm led to believe that _you trained him_." There was a subtle emphasis on the last three words.

"I guess I did, Mr. Towne," Jacob conceded. "But that was different. That was—"

"As near as I can tell, you took a young wizard under your wing and instructed him in all the skills he needed to rise through the ranks and become a competent Auror. Or have I misunderstood?"

Jacob knew he was trapped.

"Alright, Towne. Let me clear this with my supervisor. If she'll give me a leave of absence…"

"In fact, Jacob, I have already corresponded with Ms. Drudge. She and I are both convinced that your gifts are greatly needed at Malkin Academy."

He shook his head. "Should have known I wasn't going to win this one."

"Mr. Malleus, I think in time you'll discover that both of us will win from this arrangement."

"With respect, sir, I believe I'll withhold judgment on that."

* * *

><p>Author's Note: This is a gift for my daughter. You might like it, too. Anything you recognize belongs to J.K.R., of course.<p> 


	2. The SQUID

An owl hooted patiently outside a bedroom window at the rear of a comfortable little house at 700 Redbud Way. The room belonged to Jessica Robinson, and over the past two months she had slowly gotten used to owl post. Soon after she finished the fifth grade, she learned that she was a witch and that she was invited to attend a school for witches and wizards called the Malkin Academy for the Magical Arts. One day a stranger named Mr. Cryer showed up at her door and introduced her to the world of wizardry. He had even brought along a girl named Kate Burroughs, a Malkin student two years older than her, to help her feel more at ease.

The first owl post letter Jessica ever received was from Kate. It came three days after Kate and Mr. Cryer had hand-delivered her Malkin Academy acceptance letter. Early that morning, Jessica noticed a large spotted owl perched on a tree branch outside her bedroom window—just as Kate had said it would—with an envelope in its beak.

Over the next few weeks Jessica practiced writing letters of her own and sending them back to Kate with Hector, the Burroughs family owl. Kate sent her a quill, inkwell, and parchment so she could practice writing the wizard way.

This morning, Jessica pulled off her covers at the first hoot and strolled to her window. The sun was already above the horizon and her room was filled with light. This owl wasn't Hector. It was a barn owl, slightly smaller than Hector, light gray in color, and with many fine dark lines and scattered pale spots on its feathers. Its face and belly were white with just a few black spots. It was holding an envelope.

Jessica slid open her window and the owl fluttered silently into her room and landed on her desk. She retrieved the letter, stroked the owl's feathered head, and in an instant it once again took flight.

The envelope was made of parchment and sealed with wax onto which was stamped an image of two cats raring on their hind legs on either side of a cauldron, above which floated a book, wand, and pointed hat. Jessica recognized this as the coat of arms of Malkin Academy. She gingerly tore open the envelope to find two sheets of parchment and another, smaller, envelope. The first parchment said,

**_Malkin Academy for the Magical Arts_**

**_Athanasius Towne, Principal_**

**_Dear Miss Robinson,_**

**_Enclosed please find the Sorting Questionnaire and Underlying Inclinations Diagnostic (S.Q.U.I.D.). This diagnostic instrument determines your placement in the Malkin Academy house system._**

**_When you have completed the instrument, please seal it in the envelope provided and bring it with you to the start-of-term banquet._**

**_Sincerely,_**

**_Ms. Strigia Goates_**

**_Vice Principal_**

Jessica looked at the second sheet of parchment, which had only a single line of writing:

**_1. What is your name?_**

Jessica didn't understand how that could be a questionnaire, especially since the people at Malkin Academy obviously already knew her name! She did, however, know a little bit about the "Malkin house system." Kate had explained that the students were divided into houses, which were kind of like teams. They took classes together with their housemates and lived together in the same dorms. In one of her letters, Jessica asked Kate how they decided who got into which of the four houses. She had learned that Kate was in Proudfeather house and she wanted to be, too. Kate wrote back that she wasn't allowed to say anything about "Sorting."

Now Jessica's curiosity was wide-awake. As the barn owl took off, Jessica slipped the parchments into the drawer of her writing desk. After a quick shower and orange juice and a cereal bar for breakfast, she returned to her room, got dressed, and sat down at the desk.

She pulled open the drawer a little at a time, half expecting the S.Q.U.I.D. would jump out at her. When it didn't, she set the parchment down and arranged her quill and inkwell.

Underneath the question, she carefully wrote, "Jessica Marie Robinson." But then the writing vanished—both the question and her answer—as if the ink had somehow drained into the parchment itself. A second later, in the same bold, quick hand as the first question, new writing appeared:

**_2. Are you sure?_**

What kind of question was that? The mysterious, invisible hand sketched the shape of a human eye, which moved up, down, and around as if Jessica were watching an animated movie. The eye stared into Jessica's bewildered face. Then it vanished, and additional words appeared on the parchment: "You look more like a Jennifer, or maybe an Abigail."

Jessica dipped her quill in the ink again and wrote, "No, my name is Jessica."

"Well, no matter," the unseen hand wrote. Once again, the writing un-wrote itself and she was left with a perfectly clean sheet of parchment.

**_3. What is your favorite color?_**

"Pink," Jessica wrote.

**_4. Don't you think that's a little cliché? "All girls like pink," right? But we both know some girls like blue, and some like green or yellow or some other color. Are you just telling me what you think I want to hear?_**

Jessica was beginning to get a little testy. She couldn't see how her favorite color was going to get her into the right house. And she certainly didn't see how this piece of parchment had any right to argue with her about it!

"I like all colors," Jessica wrote, a bit more hurriedly than before. "My Mom says I look good in green. My favorite team's color is blue. But I still like pink the best."

The writing vanished yet again. The next question was:

**_5. If you could be any sedimentary rock, which would you choose?_**

Jessica's mouth dropped open in disbelief. She tried to remember what she learned about sedimentary rocks back in third grade. The only thing that came to her mind was limestone. She wrote it down, hoping that limestone was, in fact, sedimentary. Thankfully, the parchment made no further comment, other than a simple "Interesting."

The questions got even stranger after that. Jessica gasped and scratched her head as she pondered her favorite biped ("Mom"), the tree she most admires ("oak"—for lack of anything better to write), and the capital of Mongolia ("I have no idea!"). Still, the S.Q.U.I.D. continued to ask her questions.

**_9. What is your birth date?_**

"January 13."

**_10. What year?_**

"Every year," she wrote before she grasped what the question really meant. The S.Q.U.I.D. was making her feel a little lightheaded. It responded, "Don't be a smart aleck!"

Things seemed to go downhill from there. Jessica began to wonder if it was possible to fail the S.Q.U.I.D. and get expelled from Malkin Academy before she'd ever even been there. Although the parchment occasionally asked a sensible question like her name and her age, most of them were ridiculous. Something finally snapped inside her on question seventeen:

**_17. Which three vegetables strike you as being the most sincere?_**

Jessica stared at the question in utter bewilderment. She absentmindedly doodled in the corner of the page while trying to decide how to answer that one. She barely understood what the question meant and certainly had no opinion on the subject. Was this the sort of thing wizards and witches were supposed to know? She didn't even have a good bluff! Once again Jessica feared her dismal performance on this bizarre test would somehow count against her.

Then she noticed how her unconscious doodling had produced a shape not entirely unlike a stalk of broccoli. Having nothing better to do—and nothing to lose, so it seemed—she expanded on it, adding details until it looked halfway decent. In a stroke of inspiration she drew a little halo over the top of it.

She grinned. _Let's see what the S.Q.U.I.D. says about that! _she thought to herself. Next to the broccoli she drew a carrot. How hard could it be to draw a carrot? Finally, next to the carrot she drew a potato, figuring potatoes would be even easier to draw than carrots. She carefully drew little halos on top of both of them.

The S.Q.U.I.D. wrote, "Hmmm." Then, like every time before, the entire parchment was drained of ink.

Question eighteen asked for the state where she was born. Since drawing seemed to make her feel better on the last one, this time instead of writing out her answer she drew it as a rebus puzzle: Cane + Duck + Key for "Kentucky." The S.Q.U.I.D. had no comment. From then on, Jessica drew all of her answers instead of writing them.

Question nineteen also lent itself to the rebus approach. She answered "Name a historical figure with exemplary table manners" with Bait + Hoe + Van for "Beethoven."

The more she drew, the more Jessica's hopes revived. The S.Q.U.I.D. didn't make nearly as many snide comments about her answers now. She only resorted to words when she had to. On question twenty-four ("What is your favorite snack?") she drew a bowl filled with nuts, raisins, and chocolate candies and underneath wrote "RLTIA" to represent "Trail Mix."

By the time she got to question thirty-five, the S.Q.U.I.D. was even animating her doodled masterpieces as it had the eye it produced on question two.

For question forty-two, the S.Q.U.I.D. wrote,

**_42. Which came first, the phoenix or the flame?_**

Jessica wondered if phoenixes were real like wizards were. She had seen pictures of phoenixes in storybooks and knew they were supposed to be birds that die in flames and are then reborn. She guessed this expression might be the wizard equivalent of "the chicken or the egg." She thought for a minute about what to draw. Then it came to her. Dipping her pen once more in the ink, she sketched out what she hoped was a passable representation of a phoenix, flying in a circle as if chasing its tail. She added flames to complete the circle, so that it looked like the vaguely eagle-shaped creature she had drawn was flying out of them and heading back into them. It wasn't really an answer, she realized, but it did show she understood the question: the phoenix and the flame each spring from each other in a never-ending cycle.

As soon as she set down her quill, the phoenix sprung to life on the page. It spun around in a circle, just as she had drawn it, with the flames licking at its tail. It spun faster and faster until it was nothing but a blur. Then the whole picture exploded a burst of line-drawn flames. Once more, the writing un-wrote itself. But rather than posing a forty-third question, the S.Q.U.I.D. wrote,

**_This completes the Sorting Questionnaire and Underlying Inclinations Diagnostic. You may now seal this form in the envelope provided. Please bring this form with you to the start-of-term banquet._**

Jessica leaned back in her chair. _What have I gotten myself into?_ she thought. She folded the S.Q.U.I.D. parchment and slid it into the envelope. She tucked the envelope into the book bag she carried to school. _I guess wizard kids carry book bags too_, she pondered.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: I've already written the story of how Jessica got her acceptance letter. If there is enough interest in this story, perhaps I'll share that one as well.<p> 


	3. Cauldron Bottom

When the door swung open at the Cauldron Bottom General Store a little bell alerted the attendant he had a customer.

"Be right with you!" the young man called from the storeroom. He was taking inventory on a shipment of broom-servicing kits that had just arrived. The massive Eurasian eagle owl that had delivered the package had only just departed.

The old man wandered through the aisles, stopping every once in a while to examine something on the shelves. There were foodstuffs of various kinds, both locally grown fruits and vegetables and an impressive variety of imported delicacies. On the next row were cauldrons of every size, glass vials, and hundreds of bins and tiny drawers full of potion ingredients: everything from aconite to zinc. The stranger snatched up a vial of dragon's blood and a couple of amphisbaena skins and placed them in one of the paper bags provided. Another row was devoted to wand-cleaning kits, protective gloves and goggles, amulets, and other kinds of magical equipment. A number of second-hand brooms adorned the upper portion of the back wall.

The old man had made it as far as the small collection of books in the corner when the attendant came out to meet him. He was a tall, slim teenager with curly red hair, whose bright hazel eyes lit up as soon as he realized who had entered the store.

"Principal Towne!" he exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Ah, Mr. Burroughs," the old man said. "I was passing through and, erm, your parents aren't around by any chance?"

"Dad's away on business. He won't be back till next week. Mom stepped out for a minute. I can get her if—"

"Not necessary. It's you I've come to see, actually."

"Me, sir?"

"Now, don't get nervous, Henry. You're not in any trouble. I do, however, have something rather important to discuss with you. I would prefer to do so alone."

Henry Burroughs pulled his wand from a pocket on his shop apron and flicked it toward the door. The "Open" sign flipped over to say "Closed: Back Soon." With another graceful gesture two tall wooden stools jumped out from behind the cashier's counter. He gestured for his guest to have a seat.

"This sounds serious, Principal Towne."

"Indeed it is, Henry. May I call you Henry? I don't suppose you carry any of the British newspapers here? The _Daily Prophet_, for instance? I didn't think so." Mr. Towne sighed heavily. He peered at the tall young man before him from over the top of his wire-frame glasses.

"Henry, the news from Britain is…troublesome. Dark forces are at work. The reports I hear from my overseas colleagues lead me to believe we are on the brink of a crisis."

"What sort of crisis, sir?" Henry asked.

"I will provide additional details in due time. For now, suffice to say I am considering the possibility that Malkin Academy may soon be under threat. I've been busy the last two weeks attempting to prevent this threat from materializing."

"My family's gone to Malkin for as long as we can remember, sir. If the school's in trouble, I want to help!"

"Well said, Henry, well said. I knew that would be your attitude. I was counting on it." Henry beamed with pride.

"Perhaps, then," Mr. Towne continued, "a little background will be helpful. Two and a half weeks ago I was looking over applications for an assistant teaching position the trustees have agreed to fund for the coming year. I was about to turn in for the night when I received an urgent message from Mrs. Choake."

"The school nurse? Did someone get hurt?"

"Yes," Mr. Towne frowned, "I'm afraid a young man has been murdered." Seeing Henry's concern he quickly added, "But not at Malkin." He paused as if considering how to proceed. "You may know," he said, "that in its early years, Malkin Academy received a good deal of financial support from Hogwarts, the wizarding school in Britain. We uphold many of their traditions. Our infirmary is even named for a former Hogwarts Headmistress, a Professor Dilys Derwent."

Henry was quickly putting two and two together. "You said you had bad news from Britain—the portrait?"

"Henry, I sometimes envy the way you Proudfeathers grasp the connections between things so quickly. Yes, you of course know that there is a portrait of Dilys Derwent in the entryway of the infirmary. If I'm not mistaken there's one of Dexter Fortescue in the library at the Salem Witches Institute. Both of these have counterparts in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts. But back to my story. Mrs. Choake informed me that Professor Derwent's portrait had an urgent message for me. It was then that I learned…that things at Malkin Academy are likely to be rather turbulent this year if we're not careful."

Henry pondered everything his principal had told him. "Just tell me what I can do, sir."

"I don't yet know what form this potential threat may take. Should it arise at all, it might involve outsiders. Then again, it might involve insiders—perhaps even teachers or some of your fellow students."

Henry's jaw dropped for a second as he contemplated this possibility.

"Mr. Corntassel has always spoken highly of you. Not only of your classroom performance but also your integrity, your sense of right and wrong."

"I'm pleased to hear that, sir. Mr. Corntassel is a great teacher." Henry lowered his gaze. His cheeks turned the slightest bit red. "But…it's just that…I know I'm not the top student in Defense Against the Dark Arts." He bit his lip. "Miles Cowan is a lot better."

"This isn't entirely about Defense Against the Dark Arts, Henry—although that may well figure in. There are two additional reasons I'm here today that have nothing to do with your magical skills at all."

Henry knitted his brow as he tried to follow along.

"First, as I said, I'm looking for students of unassailable integrity. People who will not be corrupted by the temptations that may come their way. Second, if I may be so crass, I'm looking for students who are 'connected,' you might say. Your work here in your father's general store, for example. You sometimes travel with your father, is that right? You've had dealings with wizards in Arlington, New Orleans, and a dozen places in between."

"Including Malkinville," Henry added.

"Including Malkinville." Mr. Towne leaned forward, a smile on his face. "I'm gratified you see where this conversation is headed. If Malkin Academy is under threat—and this is not certain but I most definitely believe it is possible—then what better place for our enemies to gather and conspire than the little wizarding village across the river?"

Henry pressed on. "So…you want me to be some kind of spy?"

"I want you to keep your eyes and ears open for anything out of the ordinary."

"And let you know if I find out anything."

"Precisely."

"Is that it?"

"For now. Although I don't want you to do this alone. Therefore, I intend to make a similar appeal to a classmate of yours. I want the two of you to work together, to look out for each other."

"Alright. Did you have anyone in mind?"

"As a matter of fact, you've already mentioned his name."

Henry gulped. "Miles Cowan? Are you sure…?"

"As you say, Henry, he's at the top of your class in Defense Against the Dark Arts—and every other subject, I believe. And his mother works for the government, which may offer him access to the same sort of inside information you have through your and your father's business contacts."

"Yes, sir. It's just that, well, he and Callie Dunlap…"

"I'm old, Mr. Burroughs, but I'm not blind. I'm quite aware of the fact that Mr. Cowan is dating your former girlfriend. But you are seventeen years old and therefore an adult under wizarding law. I expect you to behave as such. No one else can render the service to Malkin Academy that the two of you can. Are we clear?"

"Yes, sir," Henry said, perhaps more angrily than he wanted to.

"We'll speak of this again when the school year begins next month. At that time I'll fill the two of you in on everything I know." He sighed. "I hope I will have something useful to tell you."

Mr. Towne set his paper bag on the counter. "I'll take these, if you please." Henry rung up the sale.

"Oh, and Henry," Mr. Towne was halfway to the door when he turned back. "You may be interested to know that Mr. Corntassel will be taking up a new position next month. He has agreed to transfer to Herbology."

"Really? Then who's teaching Defense? Not Mr. Flinch again?"

"Mr. Flinch remains happily retired. No, Henry, I've found a new Defense teacher. He comes highly recommended. I think he'll grow on you."


	4. Letters and Photographs

By the time July had turned to August Kate Burroughs was already looking forward to the start of the new school year. Two things made her more excited than usual. First, now that she was entering her third year at Malkin Academy, she was allowed to take elective courses. Second, her new friend Jessica would be traveling to school with her. Kate had always wanted a younger sister, but she was an only child. She enjoyed getting to meet Jessica two months ago when she went with Mr. Cryer, soon to be her Muggle Studies teacher, to help him deliver Jessica's Malkin Academy acceptance letter.

The two girls had quickly become friends even though they didn't actually have much in common. Jessica was Muggle-born; her parents and older brothers were not magical at all. But Kate's family had always been witches and wizards. (There were a few Muggle-borns in her family tree, but she could never keep straight which grandparents and great-grandparents were Muggle-born and which weren't.) And while Kate was nearly thirteen and a half years old, Jessica was only eleven.

Still, Kate thought it would be nice to have a "little sister" to look out for at Malkin. She had already told her best friend, Dana, about meeting Jessica and everything else she had done that summer.

A week before the start of term, Kate received a letter from Dana via owl post. The big snowy owl had left the envelope with the other mail arriving that day at the Cauldron Bottom General Store. She read her letter over breakfast:

_**Dear Kate,**_

_**I can't wait for you to come visit next week. My parents are looking forward to meeting you.**_

_**I can't believe you got to visit a Muggle city with Mr. Cryer! I wish I could have been there. You can tell me all about it when you get here. Jessica sounds really nice.**_

_**Mom says she'll put an Extension Charm on my room so the three of us will all fit. She would rather have Dad do it, but he has been extra busy at work. He says the goblins have been giving his boss a hard time. He (Dad) has been staying late most nights researching old case files. I hope the goblins lay off him soon. He's getting a little grumpy and won't tell me or Mom anything!**_

_**Anyway, Mom says we'll meet you at 2:00 Friday in Cannular Square. Just wait by the statue of Agrippa Wardstone and we'll find you!**_

_**See you then,**_

_**Dana**_

Summer vacation was coming to a close, and it seemed Kate's parents wanted to get as much free labor out of their daughter as they could before she left them for another year of school. She swept the general store, restocked shelves, and even worked the cash register when her cousin, Merlina Hoskins, came in with her mother to buy her a new cauldron for school.

After lunch it was time to help her mom clean out the basement. She hated that she couldn't use magic outside of school, because the job would have gone a lot faster. Still, it was interesting to dig through her parents' old things.

They had only been at the job for half an hour when Mr. Burroughs called down, "Callie! Did you finish restoring that wand for Lonzy Ritter?"

"It's in the drawer behind the cash register!"

"Are you sure?"

"Hang on, I'll be right up!"

Mrs. Burroughs trudged up the stairs. Kate stayed behind with the mountain of debris that cluttered the family basement.

In a back corner she discovered a dusty trunk filled with her mom and dad's school things. There were textbooks, reams of unused parchment, a box of moldy quills, and a couple of dried-up inkwells.

Her eyes lit upon a small green cardboard box with "H. B." written across the lid in bold, black ink. She opened the lid and found it was full of old photographs. Kate smiled as she thumbed through pictures of her parents when they were teenagers.

"Mom! Look what I found!" she called. But her mom must have still been visiting with Mr. Ritter.

She found what must have been her parents' graduation picture. Half a dozen young witches and wizards in their dress robes huddled around the tall, gray-haired Native American man Kate knew was Mr. Corntassel, the head of Proudfeather house. Everyone was beaming with pride and waving excitedly at the camera. Kate's dad squeezed her mom closer as she looked up at him, smiling. Kate knew they would be married five months after this picture was taken.

Then Kate noticed another wizard on the other side of Mr. Corntassel who wasn't smiling. This wizard, his arm in a sling and a bruise above his eye, tried to look happy, but he was obviously distracted by something. He kept shooting glances at Kate's parents and, for some reason, didn't seem terribly happy to see them.

Kate thumbed through the rest of the pictures. She saw her dad and grandparents on the lawn at Malkin Academy, probably on graduation day. Then there was her mom standing with Mr. Sparks, the old Charms teacher, receiving an award for top honors in his class. She had signed the photo, "To Henry, Love always, Callie." _They must have been such a cute couple_, she thought to herself.

She found two photos stuck together and gingerly separated them. The one on top was her dad shaking hands with Principal Towne. The man with his arm in a sling was in this picture, too, although Kate judged he did not want to be.

The one stuck to the back turned out to be a witch Kate didn't recognize. She was sitting at a desk. She might have been the same age as her teenage parents, or maybe a year or two older. There was something about her that seemed more grown up, either the style of her clothing or the expression on her face—Kate couldn't really tell. There was one thing Kate was sure of, though: whoever she was, this woman was beautiful! She had shoulder-length light brown hair, and her deep brown eyes were hypnotic. She smiled and winked at whoever was taking the picture.

"Whoa!" Kate sighed.

There was nothing written on the photo, but when Kate turned it over, she found the initials "L. P." and a date written on the yellowed back. It took her only a second to calculate that the picture was taken two months before her mom and dad graduated.

She slipped the photo back into the stack, closed the box, and began to examine some of her dad's old schoolbooks. _I wonder who she was_, Kate pondered. She flipped through her dad's copy of the _Standard Book of Spells (Grade 7)_. He had underlined several passages and written notes in the margins.

_Probably one of my aunts from Georgia. I haven't seen them in ages!_

Kate closed the trunk. She and her mom had made some progress on the basement. It was time for a break.


	5. Cannular Square

It seemed all of Edmundville, Kentucky was still asleep at 3:55 Friday morning. The streets were deserted. The houses and businesses were dark. Only the streetlights blazed their annoyance at having to shine so early.

Only one medium-sized house on Redbud Way showed any sign of life. At number 700, the porch light was on. Jessica sat on the sofa between her mother and father. Jessica was dressed in jeans and tee shirt; her parents were still in their housecoats and nightclothes. By the door was Jessica's purple suitcase, still bearing the luggage tag from last summer's vacation trip to Florida. Next to it was her book bag from school stuffed with everything that wouldn't fit in the suitcase…and a single sealed parchment envelope.

"Nearly four," Mr. Robinson said to no one in particular.

"You're sure you have everything?" Mrs. Robinson asked.

"Kate says all I need is casual clothes and toilet items and stuff like that. I'm supposed to get my uniform and books and other supplies today. The school takes care of everything else."

For several minutes no one said anything. Then two teenage boys popped into the living room. They were also dressed for bed and, unlike their parents, hadn't bothered to comb their hair after waking up.

"Morning," they said, bleary-eyed. Bill and Hunter were Jessica's brothers. Bill was a senior at Edmundville High School. Hunter was still in middle school—he and Jessica would have ridden the bus together this year if Mr. Cryer hadn't come to tell her about Malkin Academy.

Jessica's brothers had both spent the last few weeks not quite believing what Jessica and her parents had told them about the strangers who had visited their little sister and informed her she was a witch—and that she had been accepted to attend a special boarding school for witches. Even so, they knew there was something _different _about Jessica. When she was eight years old, Hunter had frightened her with ghost stories on Halloween night until she ran crying to her room. When his parents found out and made him go apologize he discovered her laughing on the floor at one of her teddy bears, which had somehow become capable of movement and was dancing around the room!

"So," Hunter said. "You're really going, huh?"

"Yeah," Jessica answered. "But don't even think about going in my room!"

"I wouldn't dream of it."

"Hunter likes his face the way it is—though there's plenty of room for improvement if you ask me," Bill said. This got a severe look from Jessica and her parents. It wasn't too long ago that Jessica had sent a bully home from school with warts all over his face—another spontaneous outburst of her magical abilities.

"Sorry, Squirt," Bill muttered. He knew better than to get on his parents' bad side this early in the morning.

"It's 4:03," Mr. Robinson yawned, looking at his watch. "They're late."

"They'll be here," Jessica promised.

As soon as the words were out of her mouth a large bus pulled up outside the Robinsons' front door.

Jessica and her parents leaped to their feet.

"This is it," her mom said.

Jessica took a deep breath then hugged her parents tight. Bill and Hunter huddled around and the entire family squeezed Jessica so tightly she felt like she was being smothered.

"Be good, Squirt," Bill said with a sniffle. Mrs. Robinson made a valiant effort to hold back tears.

"Let me get your suitcase," her dad said.

Jessica slung her book bag over one shoulder and walked outside with her parents. Bill and Hunter crowded around the front window to get a better look at the bus. It seemed from the outside like an ordinary charter bus. Along the top ran and emblem of a magic wand shooting fire and sparks. It gave the appearance of a rocket propelling the vehicle forward. The wand seemed to be flying in front of bold, dark letters that spelled the word "Greywand."

The door opened and the driver stepped out and tipped his cap. Behind him came Jessica's friend, Kate Burroughs, and a man who had to be Kate's father. They shared the same curly red hair and the same pleasant smile. He was rather tall, however, while Kate was at best average height. Also, Jessica noticed he was missing the tip of the pinky finger on his left hand.

"Kate!" Jessica called, running ahead. The bus driver yawned, took her suitcase, and began to store it in the luggage compartment. Mr. Burroughs approached the Robinsons.

"Henry Burroughs," Kate's dad said as he offered his hand to Mr. Robinson. "I'm Kate's dad, pleased to meet you. I'm sorry we're late. The bus had to wait on a passenger in Dayton."

The adults exchanged introductions until the driver slammed the luggage compartment shut, then stood at the bus door clearing his throat. Kate smiled at Mr. and Mrs. Robinson. Jessica gave her parents one last hug, and the three got on the bus.

Jessica's eyes grew as big as saucers when she saw the bus from the inside. Instead of the tight little seats she expected to see, the bus was decorated like a huge living room with twenty or thirty overstuffed green sofas and chairs, lamps hanging from the ceiling, and yellow print curtains on the windows.

Kate's mom stood to greet Jessica. She was short and slightly plump, unlike her tall, slender husband, and in the dim light it seemed there was the slightest touch of gray in her short brown hair. A couple of other wizards were trying to sleep in recliners near the back of the bus.

As she made her way to Mrs. Burroughs Jessica nearly tripped over another passenger's feet.

"Sorry," she said—then shuddered with horror. The passenger glared at her over the top of his newspaper. Jessica saw two tiny horns jutting out from a tangle of greasy black hair on the stranger's chalky white forehead. Instead of being round like a human's—or even slit like a cat's—the pupils of his bright red eyes were rectangular. Then she noticed that his feet weren't feet at all but huge cloven hooves as of some kind of monstrous goat.

The goat-passenger grunted and went back to his paper. Jessica kept staring at him as she settled into her seat.

"W-was that…?"

"A satyr," Kate whispered. "But it's not polite to stare!"

Jessica blushed and began to study her knees.

"Jessica, it's nice to finally meet you!" Mrs. Burroughs said. "Kate has told me all about you. I'm so glad you have hit it off."

"Thank you, ma'am," Jessica said, pleased that she at last remembered her manners.

Mr. Burroughs returned to his seat as the bus driver addressed the passengers.

"Thank you for choosing Greywand," he said in a bored tone of voice. "Our next stop will be Fisherville, where we'll be arriving in…" (he looked at his watch) "…about fifteen minutes."

He took his seat behind the wheel, pulled the lever that shut the door, and the bus was off with a lurch. The half-sleeping wizards in the back started, yawned, then tried to get back to sleep. Outside the windows, Jessica tried to watch the passing scenery as the bus rolled through the countryside. It was hard to make out much in the darkness, but Jessica was certain they were traveling far in excess of the speed limit.

"Hello, Jessica," Mr. Burroughs said. Gesturing toward his wife he said, "I take it you've met Callie—Kate's mom?"

"Yes, sir. Pleased to meet you both."

She extended her hand to Mr. Burroughs but lurched back into her seat as the bus made a sharp turn. Jessica could now see the lights of the freeway. The bus passed a semi truck as if it were standing still, then scooted back into the right lane. A large green sign announced that they were headed toward Louisville.

"Well, I've already paid for your ticket. When we get to Arlington we'll set you up an account at Gringotts and convert the check your father gave you into wizard money."

"Gringotts?"

"It's the wizards' bank. Their main U.S. headquarters is in New York, but the big wizarding cities usually have branches. New York, Seattle, and of course Washington DC. But you won't have to worry about money. I do business with most of the outfits in Cannular Square and they always give me a good price on Katie's school supplies." With an air of pride he added, "I can get the same deal for you."

"Thank you, Mr. Burroughs. That's very nice of you."

Jessica had heard that Cannular Square was some kind of wizard neighborhood near the nation's capital. She couldn't imagine what it might be like, but she hoped she didn't seem completely ignorant, so she chose not to ask any questions. She only hoped there were no satyrs there!

"Of course, the one thing you really don't want to skimp on is your wand. So we'll hit Lipinsky's first thing. They're a little steep but they're worth it."

"And I've kept some of my old schoolbooks," Kate chimed in. "Jessica can have them if she wants."

"No need for that," Mr. Burroughs said. "A girl in her first year at Malkin Academy wants to make the right impression. We'll get her new books for sure. And I've already stocked you up with all your first-year potion supplies." He smiled at Jessica, then started as the bus made yet another unexpected ninety-degree turn. They were now far from the lights of the expressway and it was pitch black outside. In the blink of an eye they passed through a small town of some sort and then drove through sparsely populated farmland. Another quick turn and the bus lurched to a stop seemingly in the middle of nowhere. Jessica could barely make out a tall iron structure stretching overhead—a railroad trellis spanning both the narrow road and (as best she could make out in the dark) a tiny creek off to her left.

"Fisherville!" the bus driver droned, loudly but without a great deal of conviction. The satyr near the front of the bus put down his paper and stood up. Jessica could now see his furry goat-legs and his stubby tail as he bent his already hunchbacked form down to retrieve something from behind his seat. It was a long-handled axe, which he hefted to one shoulder as he ambled toward the door.

"See ya later, Mr. Shanks," the bus driver called unenthusiastically. The satyr grumbled something unintelligible and descended the bus's steps. The driver followed him down and had some kind of conversation with passengers waiting to board. Jessica heard the luggage compartment doors open and close, then two elderly witches stepped onto the bus. They found seats near the front and slumped down into them. From the bags under their eyes they were both obviously up much earlier than they were accustomed.

The bus driver once again addressed the passengers, seeming just as bored as last time: "Thank you for choosing Greywand. Our next stop will be Georgetown, where we'll be arriving in…" (he looked at his watch and tapped it to make sure it was still working) "…about three hours."

Once again the bus was off with a lurch, and soon they were heading east on Interstate 64 at a blazing speed.

Mr. Burroughs strolled to the front to snatch the newspaper the satyr had left behind. He returned to his seat and began to read. The masthead declared in friendly blue letters that the paper was _Wizarding World Today_.

"We've got a long drive ahead," Mrs. Burroughs said to the girls. "Why don't you try to get some rest?"

Jessica, Kate, and Mrs. Burroughs settled into their seats and shut their eyes. It was hard for Jessica to rest knowing that she was riding a bus going _at least_ 150 miles an hour down the freeway, but she tried her best. Apart from the occasional roar of the engine as the driver sped up to pass a slower-moving vehicle (and all the vehicles were slower-moving!), the only sounds on the bus were the rustling pages of Mr. Burroughs's newspaper, a snoring wizard at the back of the bus, and the hushed conversations the elderly witches who got on at Fisherville.

A little before seven o'clock the August sun began to peek out from behind the horizon. A succession of small towns passed by their windows at a blur. In another fifteen minutes Jessica caught the sign welcoming them to Virginia out of the corner of one eye before the bus blazed past it.

The traffic was now much heavier, but that didn't seem to slow the bus in the slightest. It weaved in and out of traffic, often mounting the shoulder or the median, bumping and lurching all the way, until at last it screeched to a halt in downtown Washington, DC at 7:34 AM.

"Georgetown!" the driver called.

"Well, that's us," Mr. Burroughs said, and Jessica and her friends rose to exit along with the witches from Fisherville and one of the sleeping wizards from the back of the bus.

From the street, Jessica saw that the bus had stopped in front of a subway station. The driver set her suitcase at her feet.

"Farragut West," Mr. Burroughs said. "This way!" He led his charges down the escalator into the underground Metro station while fumbling with his wallet. "Jessica, if you don't mind…. I'm never sure I'm doing this Muggle money correctly…." Jessica figured out the fare for four people to ride the Metro and helped Mr. Burroughs purchase the tickets from an automated machine.

"Now, we're looking for the Blue Line," Mr. Burroughs continued, "Ah! There it is!"

Jessica had never ridden a subway before. She was almost as much in awe of the vast underground station as any of the magic she had seen that summer. It wasn't long, however, until the next train arrived and the four of them shuffled on. Unlike the bus, the Metro was jam-packed with commuters on their way to work. As far as Jessica knew, she and her traveling companions were the only non-Muggles aboard. Mr. Burroughs studied the map posted on the wall and counted each stop along the way. After the first stop, the train even emerged from its tunnel to cross the Potomac River (Mr. Burroughs announced happily that they had thus entered the city of Arlington, Virginia) before dipping once more into darkness. At the fifth stop he announced, "Pentagon City station! Here at last! Follow me, everyone."

They disembarked from the train and made their way through the mass of people back up to the street level.

"It's not much further, Jessica," Mrs. Burroughs said. "Just a few more blocks." Sure enough, in ten or fifteen minutes Mr. Burroughs stopped in front of an old red-brick building that housed a couple of small shops. The left half of the building housed a photography studio and the right half was home to a drugstore. Mr. Burroughs stood between the two, studying the wall. He rocked first one way, then another, until he apparently found just the right spot.

"There we go," he announced cheerfully. "Everyone follow me." And with that Mr. Burroughs marched straight into the wall—and vanished! Kate followed close behind. Jessica stood there, dumbfounded.

"Is there a problem, Jessica?" Mrs. Burroughs asked. "You may not be lined up right. Let me help you." Kate's mom stood behind Jessica and gently nudged her to the left with a hand on her shoulder. As soon as Jessica shifted her weight, she noticed an opening in the wall she hadn't seen before. Another half step and she was standing in front of a tunnel running straight through the building. It was so wide two Greywand buses could have driven through side by side. She suppressed a nervous giggle.

"Now in we go," Mrs. Burroughs said. The two of them entered the tunnel together and picked up their pace in order to catch up to Kate and her dad. The tunnel seemed to be about as long as a city block and dimly lit by lanterns fixed to the walls.

"I don't suppose you've ever dealt with a Muggle-repelling Charm," Mr. Burroughs said. "It's a kind of anti-Muggle spell that keeps them from seeing anything magical, even if it's right in front of their noses. Your parents could stare at that wall till doomsday and never find this tunnel."

A couple of wizards in sharp business suits met the Burroughs and Jessica heading the other way. Mr. Burroughs nodded but the men didn't seem to notice him. A screech owl passed by overhead carrying a large package in its claws.

At last they emerged from the tunnel. They were on a vast square with dozens of storefronts, and in the center a huge bronze statue of a wizard in long, flowing robes, with a wand in his outstretched hand and an owl perched on his shoulder.

The square was teeming with life. Witches and wizards strolled along the sidewalks, some silently but most in animated conversation. A carriage rattled up the street with no horse pulling it. When it stopped five tiny, hook-nosed and pointy-eared men scrambled out of it and into the large, stately building where the carriage was parked. A handful of owls crisscrossed the sky. A young wizard on a broomstick landed in front of a shop with a sign reading, "Scriptorium Cards and Stationery."

"W-what is this place?" Jessica gasped.

"Cannular Square!" Mr. Burroughs announced. "Who's hungry?"


	6. Exploding Wands and Goblins

Jessica only realized how hungry she was when Mr. Burroughs asked the question. It has been a long time since the banana and glass of orange juice she had so many hours before sunrise. Mr. Burroughs guided them into a building two doors down from the impressive marble structure where the tiny creatures went. According to the sign they were entering was the Dragon's Head Tavern.

There was a large central room with a huge stone fireplace in the center. Old-fashioned looking furniture, wallpaper, and carpet adorned the main room (and the carpet had clearly seen better days), and a gigantic mirror hung behind a counter, flanked by the day's specials handwritten on chalkboards in a round, simple script.

Suddenly the fireplace erupted in a flash of green flame, and a wizard in purple robes stepped out, brushed soot from his shoulders, and checked his watch. Seconds later a witch also appeared out of the fireplace. The two strolled toward the entrance in animated conversation.

From the large central room, Jessica could see other rooms off to one side. In one of them, serious-looking wizards and witches were scribbling notes and thoughtfully listening to some sort of presentation about how to negotiate a business contract with goblins. On the walls were numerous paintings, mainly of rural scenes from colonial America. To Jessica's surprise, the people in the paintings moved!

Mr. Burroughs had spotted an empty table in the main room. Behind the counter, a huge black man in a white apron and tee shirt, with huge gold bangles in his ears and an ornate brass armband on one arm, was polishing glasses as the foursome found their way to a cozy table in the corner. To Jessica the place seemed like a strange cross between a 1950s diner, a colonial-era coffee house, and a carnival sideshow.

"What'llitbe?" the man from behind the counter said, compressing the question into at most three syllables. As he approached them, Jessica noticed he wore baggy, multicolored pantaloons and shoes with turned-up points at the toes. Despite his imposing size he somehow reminded her of an elf in a Christmas play.

"Two coffees," Mr. Burroughs said, "one regular, one carnivorous. A pumpkin juice…and for you, Jessica?"

"Er, pumpkin juice, I guess."

"I'llgetyourorderinaminute."

Above Mrs. Burroughs's head a half dozen European frontiersmen and two Indians sat around a table in a room much like the one in which Jessica sat, gesturing and bartering over animal pelts.

"Now," Mr. Burroughs said, turning to Jessica, "as soon as we eat we'll go to the bank and open an account for you. Then we'll see about a wand and the other things on your supply list. I don't think—"

Suddenly four beverages materialized at the table. Mrs. Burroughs added a packet of sugar to her brown coffee cup. Mr. Burroughs added two sugars and a creamer to his red one. The liquid inside sloshed and churned vigorously, and for a second Jessica thought she heard a growl. Mr. Burroughs had to give his spoon a firm tug to retrieve it from the cup.

Mr. Burroughs finally wrested the spoon from the cup, splashing a drop of coffee on his shirt. "It's made with carnivorous chicory, " he blushed, "and from a fresh batch, apparently!"

"Henry likes his coffee to have a little bite to it," Mrs. Burroughs explained. "But he's trying to cut down. Aren't you, dear?"

The man from behind the counter approached their table with a quill and a notepad. "Youreadytoorder?" he asked.

"Sausages and eggs!" Kate cried. Apparently she was as hungry as Jessica. When everyone else had given their order, Mr. Burroughs continued his thought.

"I don't think it will take long, even buying for two of you. We're supposed to meet the Goods this afternoon at two. Then we'll be off and they'll take care of you until the bus leaves Sunday afternoon."

"The Goods are my friend Dana's parents," Kate said. "Dana and I met when I started at Malkin. Her parents both work for the government."

"The government? You mean there are wizards in the government?"

"Not the Muggle government, silly!" Kate explained. "The wizarding government. Mrs. Good is in the Bureau of International Magical Cooperation—she speaks about a dozen languages, I think—and Mr. Good works for the Bureau of Amulets, Talismans, and Fetishes."

Plates of food materialized on the table as the drinks did earlier. Everyone dug in, and forty-five minutes later they walked into the Arlington branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank. As it turned out, Gringotts was the stately marble structure into which the small, pointy-eared creatures went earlier. The interior was richly decorated in velvet and fine leather, with ornate gold and silver fittings on all the furniture and a huge crystal chandelier in the center of the ceiling. Pointy-eared creatures hustled to and fro, each of them smartly dressed in suits and ties that reminded Jessica of old movies depicting the Civil War era.

"Goblins," Kate whispered. "But it's not…"

"Not polite to stare," Jessica said. "I think I'm getting the idea."

Mr. Burroughs escorted Jessica to the nearest goblin teller while Kate and her mom waited in the lobby. She already had the check her dad had given her in her hand.

"We want to open an account for Miss Robinson here," Mr. Burroughs explained.

"Fill this out," the goblin grumbled, pushing a parchment application form in front of her. "How much in the initial deposit?"

"I'm not really sure," Mr. Burroughs said. "What's the exchange rate today on Muggle money?" He gestured for Jessica's check and slid it across the counter to the teller. The teller eyed her suspiciously. With a gesture he conjured an abacus out of thin air, studied Jessica's check, then moved the beads back and forth, pointing at them without actually touching them.

"Ninety-eight Scepters, two Daricks, and fourteen Flitters," the goblin announced. Jessica had no idea what the goblin was talking about, but Mr. Burroughs seemed satisfied.

"Then we'll deposit all but twenty Scepters," he said. "No, make that twenty-five." To Jessica, he added, "You'll want a bit of spending money, just in case."

Mr. Burroughs helped her fill out the paperwork. When the goblin was convinced that everything was in order, he took her check to the desk of a second goblin who guarded a bank of small golden keys hanging from pegs on the wall. He exchanged the check for the key and returned to his station.

"Vault 1441," he said. "Here's your key. Don't lose it!"

"I won't," Jessica squeaked.

The teller then counted out twenty-three gold Scepters and twenty-six silver Daricks and slid them toward Jessica. His voice said, "Have a nice day," but the way he said it made it sound like, "Why are you still here?"

"Now, to Lipinsky's!" Mr. Burroughs announced. The four departed the bank and made their way to the other side of the square, through the park in the center, and up to an ancient brick building. The sign above the door said,

Lipinsky's Fine Wands  
>Savannah – Arlington – Philadelphia<br>Established 1733

Mr. Burroughs held the door as Kate, Jessica, and Mrs. Burroughs went inside. The wand shop was decorated as richly as Gringotts, but not quite so ostentatiously. In fact, Jessica thought it could use a bit of dusting and straightening up. There were glass counters in the center of the room like in a jewelry shop, although here they were filled with hundreds of wands. The walls were lined with shelves stacked high with boxes. This reminded Jessica of some kind of shoe store, except that the boxes were all far too long and narrow for shoes. A door led to a back room, and beside it hung another moving portrait. The subject of this one was a stern but important-looking man dressed in a black cloak and a tri-cornered hat, holding a wand in an open, velvet-lined box. A plaque underneath identified him as "Benjamin Lipinisky, 1699–1784."

A kindly looking man greeted the four. He was older than Kate's parents but still full of energy.

"Callie!" he shouted. "Good to see you again!"

"Same to you, David," Mrs. Burroughs answered. "This is Kate's friend Jessica. She's starting at Malkin Academy next week. Can you take care of her?"

"I'd be glad to, Callie," David said. "Jessica, Mrs. Burroughs here used to work for Lipinsky's in our Savannah store—until Henry here stole her away from us! And how are you, Henry? Kate, how's your wand holding up? Any problems?"

"No, sir, Mr. Lipinsky."

"Kate, you should hear how my father kvetches about how 'Henry Burroughs stole the best wand-restorer in the business out from under my nose.'"

Kate grinned.

"I've got to hand it to your father, he's always had a keen eye for business. He has always been one step ahead of the competition." Mr. Lipinsky looked utterly sincere. "Always!"

"Now, David," Mr. Burroughs said, "surely you're not my competition! We've done business together for years."

"Henry, when you married Caledonia Dunlap and took her off to Cauldron Bottom, Lipinsky's lost a true asset."

"C'mon fellas," Mrs. Burroughs said, "You're gonna make a girl blush if you're not careful!"

"Yeah, David," Mr. Burroughs added. "After all, it's not like I had business on my mind when I proposed to her!"

Now Mrs. Burroughs _did_ blush. "David, I think we'd better get back to Jessica and her wand?"

"Of course, Jessica, let's see now. Can you stretch out your arm for me?" He measured her arm with a tape measure and then dropped the end to the floor to see how tall she was. Then he measured the length of her arm, the distance from her nose to her outstretched fingertips, and the circumference of her head. He slipped behind the glass cases and produced a wand, which he set in front of Jessica.

"Let's try this one. Yew, twenty inches. Very nice." He handed the wand over to Jessica, who held it uncertainly.

"What's in the core?" Mrs. Burroughs asked.

"Thunderbird feather. I've been working with it for a couple of years now. It's easier to come by than phoenix feather and I can't tell any difference in quality, to be honest."

The picture of the man in black made an audible "Hrumph!"

"My eighth-great-grandfather," Mr. Lipinsky whispered. "He's kind of traditional."

"I heard that!" the portrait said.

"Well, give it a swish," Mr. Lipinsky encouraged.

Jessica felt a little foolish now that she actually had a magic wand in her hand. It was almost as if she were about to put on a show, that she had a trick top hat with a secret compartment to hide a bunny in. Still, she had seen wands at work and knew this was for real. She swished the wand as if she were conducting an orchestra. On the second beat, however, she felt an electrical jolt rushing up her arm, and her hair stood straight up on her head!

Mr. Lipinsky frowned. "I guess not," he said. The portrait muttered, "Ha!"

"Then how about…" He pulled another wand from the case. "Cherry wood, nineteen and a half inches. Very versatile—especially with a phoenix feather core, as this one has."

Jessica exchanged wands. She gave the cherry wand a flick, and flames and foul-smelling smoke erupted from the tip. Kate and Mr. Burroughs coughed and gagged. When the smoke cleared, Mr. Lipinsky was wiping soot from his face with a silk handkerchief.

"Well, that was unfortunate," Mr. Lipinsky frowned. "But don't be discouraged. These things take time, and we want to get it right. The wand chooses the wizard, you know."

He glanced around the case for a third time. "What about this one?" Kate asked helpfully.

"Hmm," Mr. Lipinsky mused. "Hornbeam, twenty-two inches. Dragon's heartstring core. This one might prove a bit stubborn at first, but extremely powerful—if you have the will to master it."

"Now, _that's_ a proper wand!" sniffed the elder Lipinsky, the one in the portrait. Jessica's face, however, displayed something like pure terror.

"Er…But maybe not for you," Mr. Lipinsky said. He snapped his fingers as if suddenly remembering something. "I may have it," he said. He hurried to the other end of the counter. Jessica and the Burroughses followed.

"This may be it," he said with a look of satisfaction. "Mountain ash, just a smidge over twenty inches. A very reliable wood. Easy to work with." He smiled as he passed the light brown wand to Jessica. She was surprised at how light it felt in her hand. "I think you'll get a definite boost in both Charms and Transfiguration with this one. Good for dueling, too."

"And the core?" the man in the portrait asked. It sounded to Jessica more like an accusation.

"Manticore hair."

"Don't you think that might be a bit…fierce…for this little girl?" the portrait man sniffed.

"_I_ think she can handle it," Kate interjected. "Just give her a chance." Jessica was pleased her friend stuck up for her, but she still wasn't quite convinced. And what _was_ a manticore, anyway?

"Manticore hair…thunderbird feathers…" the portrait man grumbled. "Eleven generations building a reputation as the finest wand-makers in North America, and my descendants are throwing it all away on _fads_."

"Just let her try it, Grandpa," Mr. Lipinsky said.

Reluctantly, Jessica waved the mountain ash wand. It began to glow with a warm, golden light and the air suddenly took on the aroma it often does in the woods after a rain.

Jessica smiled. It was now Mr. Lipinsky's turn to say, "Ha!"

"Very clever," Mrs. Burroughs said. "The compliancy of the wood balances the ferocity of the core. David, you're a genius."

"I knew you'd understand, Callie," Mr. Lipinsky said.

"We'll take it!" Mr. Burroughs beamed.

Over Benjamin Lipinsky's strong objection, his multiply-great-grandson agreed to sell Jessica the mountain ash wand for the bargain-basement price of four Scepters and three Daricks. Then it was off to buy the rest of Jessica's supplies. She pulled from her book bag the supply list Mr. Cryer had given her a lifetime ago when he first arrived at her door.

For what must have been the thousandth time, she read the list to herself:

First-year students will require:

Uniform:

Malkin Academy school uniform (at least three full sets recommended)

One plain pointed hat, gray (for day wear)

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)

One winter cloak (gray)

(Please note that all students' clothes should carry nametags.)

Books:

_The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_, rev. ed., by Miranda Goshawk and Donovan Sparks

_The American Wizarding Experience_, vol. 1, by William Bradford Boothby

_Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_The Herbalist's Guidebook_ by Florence Spudmore

_Elixirs, Potions, and Drafts_ by Walpurga Cruitt

_Forces of Darkness–Patterns of Light_ by Solomon Bohort

Other Equipment:

1 wand, Appalachian "rod" style (heirloom wands of other styles are permitted with the Principal's prior approval)

1 cauldron, pewter or copper, standard size 2

1 set of glass or crystal vials

1 telescope

1 set of brass scales

Students may also bring an owl _or_ a cat _or_ a toad.

First-year students are _not_ permitted to keep their own broomsticks on campus.

A clothing store three doors up from Lipinsky's had all the uniform pieces Jessica needed. She was soon fitted out with not three but four sets of school uniform: Dark gray skirt and robe; white shirt (two long-sleeved, two short) and cravat. The robe sported the Malkin coat of arms she had seen before on the letters that came to her from the school. Here, however, the cauldron, wand, book, and pointed hat between two raring black cats were set against a silver background, and a ribbon underneath the crest sported a Latin motto of some sort.

Since Mr. Burroughs had already taken care of Jessica's potion-making supplies, they headed next to Binder's, a vast bookstore that reminded her more of an ancient library. A young blonde-haired witch took Jessica's book list and gathered everything she needed. At the same time, a somewhat older Hispanic wizard helped Kate with her books. Meanwhile, Mr. Burroughs talked with the manager about a shipment of calendars and how-to books for his store. When the two girls had all their books, he made sure Jessica could buy hers at a discount price.

It was nearly one-thirty by the time they were done. Fortunately, they had all eaten a big breakfast and knew they would enjoy the Goods' hospitality for supper. When they stepped out of Binder's they discovered that Mrs. Burroughs had bought Jessica a footlocker in which to store her purchases. They paused at a bench outside the bookstore long enough for her to stow her books, uniforms, suitcase, and book bag inside.

Mrs. Burroughs had also bought everyone soft drinks at the apothecary next door. "I've got a peppermint for you, Henry, and a bubblegum for me. Kate, they didn't have your favorite, so I got you chocolate cake instead."

She passed out the sodas. Sure enough, Kate's had the same deep brown color as chocolate icing, but when she opened it, it began to fizz like any other kind of soda.

"Jessica," she said, handing Jessica a bottle of orangey-brown soda, "I wasn't sure what you would like, but you seemed to enjoy your pumpkin juice at breakfast so I got you a butternut squash with raisin."

Jessica took the cold glass bottle in her hand. According to the label it was a Fizzbang Soda.

Kate sipped her soda appreciatively. "Not bad," she judged. "But I still like apple-peanut butter best."

Jessica twisted open her bottle. After the fizz settled down, she took a small sip. The pumpkin juice was much better, but she took another drink so as not to hurt Mrs. Burroughs's feelings.

"Thanks, Mrs. Burroughs," she said.

"Fizzbang is the best," Kate said. "We can't keep it in the store, can we, Dad? Everybody loves it."

"But you can't have too much," Mrs. Burroughs cautioned. "More than a bottle a day and you tend to start vibrating."

The foursome strolled back to the small park at the center of the square. "We're supposed to meet Dana and her folks by the statue of Agrippa Wardstone," Kate explained.

"Who's that?"

"The first President of the wizarding government, of course, " Kate said. Her tone suggested she had forgotten for a moment that not everyone knew who Agrippa Wardstone was. "Sorry, Jessica. I forgot you haven't studied History of Magic yet. He was a famous hero from Revolutionary times—the wizards' version of Abraham Washington." (Jessica very politely suppressed a giggle at this point.) "He headed up the Wizards' Council right after the Muggle Revolution. Since Americans were no longer British subjects, he figured it didn't make any sense to stick with the British wizarding government. He helped form a new government for wizards in America. He made peace with the Native American wizards and even convinced the goblins to give us our own currency."

"I see," Jessica said.

They waited underneath the statue of Agrippa Wardstone for the Goods to arrive. About five minutes before two o'clock, a woman and her teenage daughter emerged from the Dragon's Head Tavern. They didn't look happy. Dana, who was taller than Kate and had long blonde hair, was biting her upper lip. Her mother, also tall and blonde, wore a dark blue robe over a periwinkle business suit. Dana held on to her mother as if frightened someone would snatch her away. Kate ran forward to greet her friend. Mrs. Good looked directly at Kate.

"Kate, it's nice to meet you, but I'm afraid there has been a change of plans." Dana was clearly trembling. "I need you, your mother, and...is this Jessica?...to come with me."

"But what about—?" Kate began, but Mrs. Good cut her off. She turned to Mr. Burroughs.

"Mr. Burroughs," she said, "I'm Joanne Good, and despite appearances it is a pleasure to meet the father of my daughter's friend." Her voice and mannerisms were all business, however, and she didn't seem to be enjoying herself in the least.

"You must believe that none of this is our choice. It's the goblins. They're demanding an investigation."

"The goblins!" Kate and her parents all said in unison.

"I don't understand," Henry said. "What—?"

"Jonathan—my husband—is doing everything he can, but the goblins want results. He needs you to cooperate, and maybe we can put this whole thing behind us."

"What thing?" Mr. Burroughs protested. "What are you talking about?"

Mrs. Good looked at her watch. "I really don't have time to explain. They should be here any minute. You can contact your family later. Hopefully very soon. So long. And good luck."

Mrs. Good motioned for Kate, Jessica, Dana, and Mrs. Burroughs to go. She shepherded them back toward the Dragon's Head Tavern and even carried Jessica's footlocker for her. Mr. Burroughs started to follow them, but Mrs. Good glared at him. "Stay put," she whispered. "I'm sorry."

Mr. Burroughs began to ask another question, but before he could, three goblins and a wizard appeared in the middle of the square with a _crack! _The wizard wore a simple black robe with a brass badge above his heart and underneath, the initials A.T.F. His wand was drawn but pointed at the ground.

The wizard glanced at the cluster of witches striding determinedly toward the Dragon's Head. Dana looked at him imploringly but said nothing. Kate's eyes darted between her father and the newcomers. He waited several seconds before letting his gaze rest on the tall, curly-haired wizard under Agrippa Wardstone's statue—and then it was only when one of the goblins, the tallest and oldest of the trio, nudged him and pointed the man out to him.

The wizard cleared his throat, took two steps toward Mr. Burroughs, and said, "Henry Burroughs, we'd like to ask you some questions." The goblin nudged him again. He added, "Back at headquarters."


	7. The Dragon's Head

Inside the main room of the Dragon's Head, Mrs. Good turned again to Kate's mom. _What's going on?_ Kate pondered. She and Jessica traded frightened looks.

"Mrs. Burroughs," she said, "you have to believe we had no idea it would come to this—"

"Just tell me what's going on," Mrs. Burroughs said, a flash in her eyes.

"Of course," Mrs. Good said. She hesitated. "But I don't think this is the appropriate place. Please, let me pay for rooms upstairs for all of you. Under the circumstances, I don't think it's possible for the girls stay with us this weekend." She strode to the counter to speak to the tall, black tavern keeper, who was using a wand to magically erase his lunch specials. Mrs. Good slipped a handful of gold Scepters into his massive hand. A moment later, the two of them returned. The tavern keeper handed over two large brass keys.

"Numbersthreeandfive," he said in his customary mumble. "Callmeifyouneedanything. ThenameisMrLampe." And the next second he was heading back to the counter.

Mrs. Good led Jessica, Kate, and her mother around a corner and up a dark but well-swept flight of stairs, with Jessica hauling her footlocker behind her. At the top of the stairs, Kate saw a row of doors in a dimly lit hallway.

"Mrs. Burroughs, perhaps you and I can talk in room three while the girls wait in roo—"

"No!" Kate exploded. "I want to know what's going on, too!"

Mrs. Good hesitated, but when Mrs. Burroughs put her arm around Kate's shoulder she realized it would do no good to argue. She handed both keys to Mrs. Burroughs, who opened the door to room three. The two women and the three girls all filed into a neat little hotel room. Mrs. Burroughs lit the lamps with her wand. The girls sat on the bed. The two mothers pulled up chairs.

"Now, will you please tell me what's going on?" Mrs. Burroughs said, obviously at the end of her patience.

"Of course," Mrs. Good said. "My husband, Jonathan, works for the Bureau of Amulets, Talismans, and Fetishes," she began. "The goblins have been pressing for an investigation of your husband for weeks."

"An investigation! But that's ridiculous!"

"I know it is, Mrs. Burroughs, and so does my husband. But his hands are tied. The goblins aren't taking 'no' for an answer. His supervisor has given him the case, and he has been trying very hard not to let the goblins know that our daughters are school-friends." Kate and Dana exchanged fearful glances. Jessica sat stunned on the bed. "That's why I had to get you out of the square before Jonathan arrived. He's convinced it would be better for him to work this case than to hand it off to anyone else, but if the goblins sniffed any hint of a connection between our families they would demand a different agent."

"But this doesn't make any sense!" Kate blurted. "My daddy hasn't done anything wrong!" Dana reached out her hand to place it over Kate's.

"We understand, Kate," Mrs. Good said. "My husband has done a thorough background check on your father. He thinks the whole thing is some kind of misunderstanding. But the goblins are very persistent. Now, please understand… Jonathan is doing all he can…"

"Mrs. Good," Kate's mom thundered, "please tell me what they are saying my husband has done!"

"They say… That is, the goblins…" Mrs. Good took a deep breath and forged ahead. "They say your husband is in possession of a goblin-wrought artifact, obtained illegally, and possibly linked to the Dark Arts."

The room was suddenly, painfully, silent. Kate felt as if she had been kicked in the stomach. Everything was spinning around, and she tried to tell herself it was all an awful dream. Dana's eyes began to water. Kate was too shocked to register any emotion at all.

"And _what_, pray tell," Kate's mom eventually said, "is this mysterious Dark artifact that my husband is supposed to possess?" She crossed her arms defiantly, daring Mrs. Good to say more.

"I don't know all the details," Mrs. Good said, "but I think it's supposed to be some kind of cup. Some kind of golden cup."

The color drained from Mrs. Burroughs's face as quickly as if someone had flipped a switch.

"A…"

She seemed to lose her balance and began to slowly topple over.

"Mom!" Kate wailed. She and Mrs. Good were at her side in an instant.

"I'm all right. I'm all right."

"Dana," Mrs. Good called to her daughter, "go to the bathroom and bring Mrs. Burroughs a glass of water!"

In another minute the color had begun to return to her face. Dana passed the water glass to Kate, who offered it to her mother. Mrs. Burroughs took a good, long sip.

Mrs. Good was pacing the floor. She looked worried.

"A…a cup?" Kate's mom said.

"Th-that's right," Mrs. Good said. Once again the room slipped into uncomfortable silence. Kate sat on the side of the bed holding her mother's hand. Dana now sat alone on the bed. Jessica sat quietly on the floor, not sure what to do.

"We should go," Mrs. Good told her daughter. "But, Mrs. Burroughs," she said almost in a whisper, "if there is anything…." She didn't seem to have the will to finish her sentence. She nodded at Dana, who stood and gave Kate a halfhearted wave.

"See you Sunday," she said.

"No," Mrs. Burroughs said. "Well…not yet. Mrs. Good, will you please take Jessica downstairs and have her bring back lunch for the three of us? Kate, where's my purse?"

She fumbled with her coin purse and produced three golden Scepters and passed them to Jessica. "That should be plenty. Whatever they have is fine. You can keep the change."

As soon as they were gone, Kate turned to her mom.

"Y-you're not hungry, are you, Mom?"

Mrs. Burroughs shook her head. "We needed to talk."

"Mom, d-do you know what cup they're talking about?"

She sighed.

"It was so long ago. You weren't even born. Your dad and I weren't even married yet. It couldn't possibly be…."

"What, Mom? You can tell me."

Mrs. Burroughs rubbed her temples and her eyes. This had been a very long day.

"We were eighteen—about to graduate. Th-there was a cup. But it wasn't real. It was just a fake. And anyway, it was lost. I don't know what happened to it—and neither does your father!"

"I don't understand," Kate said. "What kind of cup?"

"Gold. It could have been goblin-made; I can't say for sure. Some powerful wizards were looking for it. Dark wizards." Mrs. Burroughs looked squarely at Kate. "Your father was very brave. He made sure they didn't get it."

Kate had never heard this story before. It was hard for her to imagine her dad fighting Dark wizards. As far as she knew he never wanted to be anything but a storekeeper.

Mrs. Burroughs reached for her daughter's hand. "There was trouble. At school. You've learned about the Second Wizarding War in your History of Magic class, haven't you?" Kate nodded. "This was before the war officially began—but that doesn't mean both sides weren't busy trying to gain an advantage."

"But I thought the Second Wizarding War was in England."

"It started in Britain," Mrs. Burroughs explained, "but it spread over here, too. Voldemort was British, of course, so he first set his sights on the British wizarding government. But he had agents at work in Europe, America, Australia—just about everywhere, I suppose. Everybody was afraid of him. People wouldn't even say his name out loud back then. And everybody figured as soon as he took over in Britain he'd try to take us over as well."

"But he didn't, right? They finally got him—about the time I was born."

"That's right, Kate. They got him. That's why the 2nd of May is such a big holiday in the whole wizarding world. You were only six weeks old. I was holding you in my arms when I first heard the news."

Kate allowed herself to smile. "And the cup?"

"The cup," Mrs. Burroughs continued. "Well, Principal Towne knew early on that Voldemort was secretly at work, recruiting followers, putting plans in place. And he was right. He had agents looking for it: 'the Cup of Kings.' They thought they had found it—at Malkin Academy itself of all places! But your dad managed to outwit them." Mrs. Burroughs beamed with pride. "And then," she continued, "everyone learned that the cup wasn't even real!"

"A decoy?" Kate said, wide-eyed.

"A fake!" Mrs. Burroughs said with a laugh. "There never was a 'Cup of Kings'—at least not in America. I think the whole thing was a fraud from the start. If it distracted Voldemort for a couple of months, that's wonderful. Maybe it helped ever so slightly to bring about his downfall. But the goblins are crazy if they think your father knows anything about the real one, if it exists at all!

"This is nuts," Kate said. "If Dad doesn't have the cup, and if it was never real in the first place…. I just don't get it."

"I know, baby," Mrs. Burroughs said. "None of this makes any sense. But there's nothing we can do now but wait."

Before long Jessica returned with sandwiches and iced tea for the three of them. They ate mostly in silence, however, as none of them really felt like talking.

Kate helped Jessica move her footlocker into room five. Then she set her print canvas bag on the floor and opened it far wider than it should have opened. She reached deep inside and pulled out a black leather handle. The handle was attached to something big and black, with shiny brass fittings. It was her footlocker! With another yank she got all four corners to clear the lip of her bag, and from there it was no trouble at all to pull it all the way out.

"Undetectable Extension Charm," she said.

The two girls laid out all they would eventually need to get ready for bed, then went back to room three. They all tried to make small talk without much success.

Around sunset there was a knock at the door. Kate got up to open it.

"Dad!" she cried, and gave her father a tight hug.

"Henry!" said Mrs. Burroughs.

Mr. Burroughs grinned at his family and welcomed both his wife and his daughter into his arms.

"What happened, Mr. Burroughs," Jessica asked. "Is everything all right?"

"Everything is fine, Jessica," he said, and welcomed her into the huddle as well. "And the goblins aren't very happy about it, either," he added with a grin.

"What _did_ happen, Henry?"

"Well, first of all, Callie, you'll never believe what this is all about. The goblins are still looking for the Cup of Kings!"

"I figured as much from what Mrs. Good told us," Mrs. Burroughs said.

"They're convinced I know where it is. They figure I've been hiding it all these years and they want it back. Well, Agent Good—Dana's father—must have suspected they were barking up the wrong tree. He asked a lot of questions. Very thorough, very professional. But he wasn't buying their story for a minute."

"Well, thank heavens for that," Mrs. Burroughs said. "What I don't understand is why all of a sudden the goblins are so eager to get their cup back. Nary a peep from them in fifteen years. You'd have thought they'd have settled this years ago."

Mr. Burroughs sighed. "Actually, Callie," he said. The smile had slipped from his face. "They've only now managed to get the case reopened because of new supposed 'evidence.'"

"Yes?"

"Some millionaire in London died recently. The goblins have been all over his estate. Fifteen years ago everyone thought he had the cup, but he denied it. Well, the goblins must have thought this was their big chance. Turn his estate upside-down, see if he really had it after all. Turns out he didn't, but the goblins have already been bitten too many times on this case. They've been at it over thirty years, all told. Somebody in the goblin community has decided enough is enough."

"And they don't care who gets hurt in the process," Mrs. Burroughs said.

"Apparently not. They've been building a case against me for months. Agent Good has been saddled with it for weeks. They even tracked down…."

"Who, Henry? You don't mean to tell me they've finally found…"

"Miles Cowan."

Mrs. Burroughs gasped audibly.

"Who's that?" Kate asked.

"He was…," her mom began, "he was…."

"Mom?"

"It's a long story, sweetie," Kate's mom reassured her. "Miles and I dated during our last year of school. We were pretty serious. He hadn't proposed or anything, but he was thinking about it. _I_ was thinking about it…"

"So, what happened?"

"Let's just say sometimes you think you know someone when really you don't."

"After graduation," Mr. Burroughs said, "Miles moved to Canada. He's been there ever since. He took it pretty badly when your mom broke it off with him."

"Henry, do you think…. Do you think he'd say anything against you?" Mrs. Burroughs said.

"Surely not," Mr. Burroughs said. "Say what you want about Miles Cowan, I can't imagine him making wild accusations against me just to get revenge for you breaking up with him. It's ridiculous! "

"I hope you're right," Mrs. Burroughs said.

"They've got to give this madness up. They just have to! The A.T.F. isn't buying their story. What else can they do?"

"I hope you're right, dear." Mrs. Burroughs sighed. "But you know as well as I do that goblins don't like to lose."


	8. A Midnight Meeting

Normally Henry Burroughs would have been in the Proudfeather dormitory fast asleep by now, but nothing had been normal for the Malkin seventh-year for at least a month. Instead of lying under the covers in his comfortable bed, he paced impatiently beside a frozen lake.

Being invisible, he couldn't check his watch, but he knew it must have been approaching midnight.

He pulled his cloak tightly around him. It had been the coldest February in nearly sixty years, but he didn't dare create a fire. He stretched and stomped his feet and tried to stay warm. He flinched at every slightest noise, although he was most certainly alone.

Or was he?

He saw no one, but the crunch-crunch of the icy grass told him someone was approaching. In another minute he could hear labored breathing, though there was still no sign that anyone else was there.

"Henry," a voice from nowhere said in a whisper.

"I was afraid you wouldn't make it, Principal Towne," Henry said. He removed the Disillusionment Charm he had placed upon himself. Principal Towne did the same. The two of them were suddenly visible once more—though there was no one around to see them.

"I've just come from the infirmary," Principal Towne said. "Mrs. Choake says Mr. Cowan is out of danger. He hasn't yet regained consciousness, and his arm will take a bit more mending. But I'm assured he'll make a full recovery."

"Good," Henry said. "So…what about Mr. Malleus?"

"He's coming around. I expect his investigation will clear you."

Henry sighed. "It's not fun when one of your teachers thinks you're a criminal."

"Mr. Malleus thinks all his students are criminals—at least potentially. I'm hopeful he'll lighten up a bit by next term."

"You're telling me!" Henry said. "Maybe you could at least get him to teach from a proper textbook and not just use the Auror training manual. I don't mind, personally, but he's giving some of the firsties nightmares."

"Then you'll be pleased to know I've already discussed the matter and suggested a number of more appropriate texts. But, Henry, I doubt you called me out here in the middle of the night to talk about your Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Your message said it was urgent."

"That's right," Henry said. He pulled at his scarf to better shield his ears against the biting wind. "And obviously, I didn't want to talk in your office—or anywhere else people might be listening. Principal Towne, do you know anything about a golden cup, about nine inches tall, goblin-wrought, with a winged lion motif?"

"Not offhand, Henry. Why do you ask?"

"Because Mr. Lake asked me about it today in Malkinville."

"Lake? You saw him?"

"I know. I thought we'd all seen the last of our new groundskeeper. But he's laying low in town. I saw him at Shagbark's. He seemed to think I might know something about that cup I mentioned. He offered me a thousand Scepters if I could find it for him."

Principal Towne considered this bit of news.

"I played along. If he was working with…"

"Oh, I agree completely, Henry. Best to let them think you're with them…or could be. Especially now." Principal Towne rubbed his gloved hands together against the cold. "I suppose you've read about the breakout at the British wizard prison last month?"

"Yes, sir. It was all over _Wizarding World Today_. But could the Azkaban escapes have anything to do with what's been going on here?"

"We can't say for sure, Henry, but we mustn't rule it out. If you've read the reports, you know the escapees were some of You-Know-Who's most fanatical supporters. And," Principal Towne leaned in, as if this were the greatest secret of all, "a Death Eater has been spotted in DC."

"No!"

"Yes, or at least that is what one of my contacts in Cannular Square tells me. Not one of the escapees, but nearly as bad: a nasty-looking fellow by the name of Nott. He was in the Dragon's Head last weekend."

"Mr. Towne," Henry said, "do you think Mr. Lake could be working for You-Know-Who?"

"At this point, Henry, we have to assume so." Principal Towne sounded weary and concerned. "He has been back since last summer. Only a fool would assume he has only been active in Britain. He'll want followers wherever he can find them. It wouldn't surprise me to learn he's sent emissaries to the giants, the werewolves, not to mention the four corners of the wizarding world.

"But for some reason he's biding his time. The wizards on the front lines in Britain think there's something he wants before he proclaims himself openly."

"The cup?"

Mr. Towne paused. "I don't know. But I have heard that he seems to have a fascination with old magical artifacts. I'll have to do some research on this cup you've mentioned. It may be something You-Know-Who would like to have—a weapon, perhaps, or at least something he doesn't want in the hands of his enemies. I'm afraid I have more questions than answers, Henry. Perhaps Mr. Lake can remedy that."

"If that's even his real name," Henry mused. "He said he'd heard I had attacked Miles Cowan, that I might know about things going on at Malkin. Mr. Towne, Lake hasn't been seen since Miles was attacked. Don't you think…"

"That he should be our prime suspect? Absolutely. He's playing a game with you, Henry. Maybe he thinks he can frame you for the attack—or threaten to do so to get what he wants from you."

"I suppose," Henry frowned. "Anyway, he's looking for this cup. He seems to think it's here at Malkin. But I must have asked too many questions. He got nervous and left."

"Still, this is very interesting, Henry."

"You don't know the half of it," Henry said. "An hour later I was heading back to campus and ran into somebody else. A certain young lady of our mutual acquaintance."

"You don't say?" Principal Towne said.

"I mentioned my meeting with Lake. She seemed antsy. Mr. Towne, I'm afraid your suspicions about her are right. She's hiding something."

Principal Towne shrugged. "There's nothing I can do about it now," he sighed bitterly. "But when this episode is over…"

"She wants to meet with Lake," Henry continued, "but she's also afraid of him. She wants me to arrange a meeting. So…what should I do now?"

"It seems fate has given you an opening, Henry. If Mr. Lake thinks he has the advantage over you, he may reveal more than he intends. Go ahead and set up this meeting."

"Yes, sir."

"Now, if you will excuse me, it's too cold for an old man like me to be out on the grounds. I believe I'll go home."

"Of course, sir."

Henry and Principal Towne both re-applied their Disillusionment Charms and headed off in different directions.


	9. A Magic School Bus

Everyone was in a better mood on Saturday. A good night's sleep did them all a world of good. The weather was still beautiful, so Jessica, Kate, and her parents went sightseeing in Cannular Square. They visited several shops they didn't see the day before. There was a used book store, virtually empty except for a couple of frumpy looking witches thumbing through dog-eared copies of the collected works of Guilderoy Lockhart ("3 Flitters for the set," a hastily scrawled sign announced).

The apothecary was a storehouse of cauldrons, mortars and pestles, vials, scales, and potion ingredients, including boomslang skins, dragon blood, bat spleens, mandrake root, jimson weed, and even stranger items. Mr. Burroughs treated the girls to another Fizzbang. This time, Jessica could choose her own flavor and decided to go with banana-blueberry. Kate decided to try cantaloupe.

The store that most fascinated Jessica, however, was Hatrack and Twiggs Quality Brooms. It seemed every few minutes a young witch or wizard zipped over the skies of Cannular Square on a broom, all with leather satchels over their shoulders or backpacks on their backs. Mr. Burroughs explained they all worked for a delivery service, transporting parcels back and forth between the various shops on the square. Some, he said, even used Disillusionment Charms to shuttle unseen between the square and the centers of wizarding government across the river in Georgetown. Jessica always thought of ugly Halloween witches flying on brooms. She had since learned that flying broomsticks were a common method of wizarding transportation.

She remembered the school newspaper Kate had showed her nearly three months ago and the picture of exuberant Quodpot players. Quodpot was a wizarding sport, Kate explained, played on broomsticks fifty feet above the ground, with a ball, called a Quod, that exploded unless it was dropped into a cauldron filled with a deactivating potion.

"When my grandpa ran the store, we only sold used broomsticks. Now we carry new ones straight from Hatrack and Twiggs," Kate explained. "Dad's really good at figuring out what the next big item is going to be. I got an Osprey 360 for my birthday when I turned twelve," she smiled. "Dad stocked up on them for the store. Then, three months later, the Portland Fury announced they were switching to Ospreys. Well, they've won the National Championship three or four times in the last ten years, so suddenly everybody wanted an Osprey. The price nearly doubled. My cousin Merlina hated it! She's still using an old Firebolt that has got to be at least fifteen years old."

Jessica was amazed at all the different brands of broomsticks: Nimbuses, Firebolts, Firestars, Cleansweeps, Ospreys… A little boy younger than her was looking with his dad at brooms for his birthday present.

"It's too bad first years can't bring their own brooms to school," Kate remarked. "I'll bet my dad could get you a great deal on one of these Ospreys or maybe even the new Firestar. The school brooms are okay, but most of them are so old the charms are starting to wear off."

"I-I think I'd rather stay on the ground!" Jessica said.

"Well, don't knock it till you've tried it," Kate said. "You get flying lessons your first year, you know. I bet you change your mind once you've been up there."

Jessica wasn't entirely sure of that. Nor was she convinced she could handle flying lessons. Still, she had managed to get through the S.Q.U.I.D. At least the broom wasn't likely to talk back to her!

In a narrow alley off the square they stopped for ice cream, which they ate at an outdoor table where they could enjoy the sunshine and watch the crowds go by. Across the street was a post office with a high tower from which owls flitted in and out. Next door was another wand shop. A couple of boys with dark, bushy hair were leaving this store with a short, middle-aged witch who must have been their mother. The younger boy was swishing his wand back and forth, pretending to work spells. The older boy noticed the foursome and grinned in an awkward kind of way.

"Uh, hi Kate," he mumbled.

"Hey, Claudius!" Kate smiled. "Claudius, these are my parents, and this is my friend, Jessica Robinson. She's starting her first year at Malkin."

"Oh," Claudius said. His mother nudged him as his younger brother suppressed a giggle but could not conceal his mischievous smirk.

"I mean," his voice squeaked, "pleased to meet you, Mr. Burroughs, Mrs. Burroughs. This is my mom and my brother."

"Pleased to meet you all," the boys' mom said. "Jessica, are you any relation to Emma Robinson-Rupert, the former Quodpot Commissioner?"

"No ma'am, my parents aren't wizards."

"Ah," Claudius' mom said, smiling.

"Jessica, this is Claudius Poole," Kate explained. "He's in my year. He writes for the school paper. Is your brother starting at Malkin?"

"Yeah," Claudius said, attempting—yet failing—to sound at ease making pleasant conversation. "This is Marcus. We just got his wand over at Bitterstaff's."

"Mahogany, nineteen inches," the younger brother stated proudly. With the air of an expert, he added, "Mrs. Bitterstaff says mahogany is a good solid wood all around. What's yours?"

"Ash," Jessica said, trying to remember what Mr. Lipinsky had said. "I mean, _mountain_ ash," she corrected herself. "And the core is…uh…something that starts with an M."

"What? You don't know your own wand core?" Marcus scoffed. "That'll really impress the teachers, won't it?"

Mrs. Poole shushed her son. Claudius and Jessica's faces were having a contest to see which could turn red the fastest.

"C'mon, Marc. Lay off!" Claudius whispered. Marcus, however, seemed quite pleased with himself.

Mrs. Poole grabbed Marcus by the collar and dragged him toward the square. Claudius turned back to wave at Kate with a halfhearted smile and a look of deep embarrassment.

Jessica bowed her head over the last bite of her ice cream. S.Q.U.I.D.s and flying broomsticks seemed the least of her problems at Malkin Academy if she also had to put up with the likes of Marcus Poole.

As the afternoon progressed, however, Jessica had forgotten about Marcus and messing up her wand core. (And she made a mental note to learn as much as she possibly could about wand-making—and fast!) They visited a museum of American Wizarding History, where they saw all sorts of important historical artifacts. They had a replica of Agrippa Wardstone's wand—maple and phoenix feather, fourteen and a half inches, Jessica noted—as well as several government documents he had signed. There was a display of the skins and pelts of "Magical Creatures of North America": snallygasters, hugags, chupacabras, jabberknolls, jackalopes, glawackuses…. Jessica had never heard of any of them!

There was also a gallery of "Defining Moments in American Wizarding History." As in the Dragon's Head Tavern, the images moved on the canvas. In one painting a round, bemused-looking wizard in a powdered wig stood next to three Native American men each at least a foot taller than him. On closer inspection, Jessica gasped to see the Native Americans had pointed ears like the aliens in old science-fiction TV shows. The caption read, "Hiram Cowperthwaite Visits Leaders of the Nunnehi – Crones Creek, North Carolina, 1747." One and then another of the tall Indians slowly faded from the picture. Hiram Cowperthwaite looked around as if to see where they disappeared to, more exasperated than concerned.

Other paintings depicted witches and wizards signing treaties or conducting trade with other strange beings. Some, like the Pagwadjinini (who looked adoringly at a witch named Cassandra Marable as they attended her in her Connecticut sitting room in 1709) were no taller than children.

Then there was the portrait of the opening of the first American branch of Gringotts Wizarding Bank (New York, 1655). A half-dozen stern-looking goblins stood restively beside an equal number of wizards in front of a huge marble structure. Jessica's thoughts turned to Mr. Burroughs and his problems with the goblins. Kate had filled Jessica in the night before about some of the details she had missed. She had only known Mr. Burroughs for twenty-four hours, but she couldn't believe he would be involved in anything criminal. But even she could figure out it was best not to antagonize a goblin. She hoped everything would turn out all right.

The four enjoyed a nice supper at the Flaming Phoenix, a restaurant on another alleyway leading off the square. Everyone turned in early. The next day the Burroughs had to get back to Cauldron Bottom, and Kate and Jessica would travel to Malkin Academy.

* * *

><p>They got up early. Actually, Jessica had barely slept at all, she was so excited—and a little bit nervous—about finally seeing Malkin Academy after hearing about it all summer. Kate and Jessica put on their dark gray school uniforms, but left their robes packed away. Kate explained the robes were only for formal occasions, like the start-of-term banquet that evening. Jessica noticed that Kate's cravat was black, not white, although it was covered with white eagle shapes. The four ate breakfast in the Dragon's Head dining room and then went back to their rooms to gather their belongings and get ready to go.<p>

Kate shoved her footlocker back into her magical bag. She offered to carry Jessica's as well but, unfortunately, the girls were only able to get it a third of the way in before it wouldn't go any further.

They didn't have to leave until 3:00 that afternoon. They checked out of their rooms, ate lunch at the Dragon's Head Tavern, took another stroll through Cannular Square, and ended up sitting on a park bench beneath the shadow of Agrippa Wardstone.

They had a little time to spare, so as Jessica sat on the bench she searched the index of _Magical Theory_ for any references to wand-making. Kate was also deep in a huge leather-bound textbook.

At last, they heard the honk of a horn. Looking up from her book, Jessica saw a yellow school bus circling the square and coming to a stop near the tunnel that led to the Muggle city beyond. It seemed like any other school bus Jessica had ever seen, though perhaps a little bit shabbier. The paint was peeling in places, and Jessica noticed it didn't have the extendable arms and stop signs she was used to seeing. It might have been the kind of bus her parents—or even her grandparents—had ridden to school. It did, however, have the words "MALKIN ACADEMY" stenciled in black on its side.

"Almost three," Mr. Burroughs announced. "Time to go, girls."

Mr. Burroughs carried Jessica's footlocker. They were not the only families heading toward the bus. Four or five cars were parked in front of the shops on Cannular Square, from which children and their parents were unloading luggage. A stream of pedestrians entered through the tunnel. Some older kids and their parents simply materialized out of thin air!

The crowds of children and their parents gathered on the sidewalk and spilled into the street. Police wizards in navy robes directed traffic with wands that glowed blue at the tips.

"Well, here we are!" Mr. Burroughs announced. "Kate, be good, and look after Jessica. Jessica, I'm so glad to have met you. I hope you have a wonderful year. Send us an owl if you need a way home for Thanksgiving."

"Thank you, Mr. Burroughs."

"Now, Mrs. Burroughs and I have to get back to Cauldron Bottom. We've already left the store closed longer than we expected. So long!"

There was a flurry of hugs and kisses for both of the girls. Then the Burroughs adults walked back out of the crowd and, turning on the spot, suddenly vanished into thin air with a _crack!_

"Kate," Jessica said. "Where are the other buses? I only see one."

"What do you mean? There's only this one."

Jessica furrowed her brow and looked again at the lone bus and the crowd of students gathered around it. There must have been at least two hundred of them!

"Come on!" Kate said. "Let's see if we can find Dana."

Kate stepped onto the bus with Jessica right behind her. Jessica couldn't help but stare at the bus driver, a wiry, haggard, snaggle-toothed man with long, greasy hair.

As soon as she turned past him, however, Jessica was absolutely stunned. Instead of the inside of a school bus she expected to see, she was in long, narrow room that looked more like a church fellowship hall set up for games night. There were tables and chairs arranged around one wall, with gaming tables along the other: ping pong, foosball, air hockey, and so forth. Near the back was a refreshment stand, but Jessica could see the bus went back even further. Kate led her past the refreshments to a storage area already packed with dozens of trunks and footlockers. Beyond that were restrooms. At the very back, just to the left of the yellow emergency exit, was a huge wooden wardrobe.

Jessica stacked her footlocker with the others. Kate pulled hers out of her canvas bag and set it beside the rest. Kate went back to the main room, where Dana was just getting on the bus along with an African American girl, whom Kate introduced as Felicia Hyatt. Behind them came a tall, gangly boy, Will Proctor.

Kate and her friends caught up on each other's summers. Dana admitted to having a crush on a boy named Bashari Parris. Felicia had decided to try out for the house Quodpot team this year. Will and his family had vacationed in Louisiana and—he was convinced—had almost been attacked by werewolves ("There's a whole colony of them down there, and I swear some of them escaped!").

Although Jessica was sure they didn't mean to, they somehow didn't seem to include her in the conversation. Eventually she wandered off to the refreshment stand to see what flavors of Fizzbang Soda they had. As nothing looked particularly appetizing—the most promising-sounding flavor was strawberry shortcake—she drifted to one of the tables along the wall.

As crowded as the bus was, Jessica somehow felt alone.

* * *

><p>"And they think your dad still has it?" Felicia Hyatt gasped.<p>

"Yeah," Kate said. "Dana's dad must have been great, though. He's shut 'em up—at least for a while. But from what Dad says, the goblins weren't really convinced."

Dana touched Kate's arm. "We think the whole thing stinks," she said. "That's why Mom and Dad wanted to give you all some warning Friday."

"Goblins, Dark magic, the A.T.F.—that's intense!" Will Proctor sighed. "I bet you're glad it's over."

"It's _not_ over, Will. Haven't you been listening!" Kate's eyes blazed blue fire. "The goblins have been trying to get their cup back since before we were born. They're not going to give up. If the A.T.F. won't listen, they'll find somebody who will."

"Kate, if your dad's in trouble," Felicia said, "you know we've got your back. Anything you need, just name it."

"I know. Thanks."

"So," Dana whispered, a twinkle in her eye, "what's the plan? What can we do?"

"First we need to know everything we can about the Cup of Kings. Who made it. Where it is. What it can do. I've already found out a little." Kate reached into her bag and produced a massive leather-bound book called _A History of Magic _by Bathilda Bagshot (revised and expanded by Calamus Reed).

"The Cup of Kings is in our History of Magic textbook?" Will said.

"Maybe," Kate answered. "It looks like it." She flipped the pages until she found a section she had bookmarked that morning. "Here, read this." She turned the book around so Will could read it aloud to the others.

_**In ancient times wizards lived openly among their non-magical neighbors, although Muggles today consider stories of magic and fantastic creatures to be mere fairy tales. Little do they realize that many of the magical persons, creatures, and artifacts they dismiss as superstition are actually based on solid history. Merlin, of course, was a powerful British wizard from the Dark Ages whose name is quite well known in the non-magical world. Muggles are also acquainted with goblins, werewolves, and other magical beings—though their understanding is often laughably inaccurate.**_

_** The same goes for various sorts of magical items. Cloaks or helms of invisibility, magical swords, and the like practically litter the landscape of Muggle folk tales. They even appeal to these items to explain their various countries' golden eras. King Arthur was a great British king, they say, because he possessed the sword Excalibur. Or the kings of Persia ruled such a vast empire because of King Jamshid's magical cup.**_

"You see?" Kate said. "The kings of Persia had a magical cup. The Cup of Kings!"

"I dunno, Kate," Will frowned. "That's not a lot to go on. There's probably a bunch of magical cups. How do we know this is the one the goblins are talking about?"

"For one thing, if Voldemort wanted it, it would have to be famous, right? There aren't that many cups listed in the index—and only one of them mentions ruling a 'vast empire.' That's what Voldemort wanted, wasn't it?"

Will rolled his eyes but Dana leaned in closer.

"We need to know for sure. We'll hit the library as soon as we can. See what else we can learn about this Jamshid guy."

"Count me in," Felicia said.

"I guess," said Will.

"Great. Let me know if y'all find anything," Kate said. As she sat, lost in thought, she realized there was someone else she would like to learn more about. Swirling around in her mind were images not only of her parents, goblins, and magical cups but also that of a beautiful woman with deep, brown eyes.

* * *

><p>"Are these seats taken?" A fair-haired girl about Jessica's age had come up beside her. Behind her was a dark-skinned boy who might have been Hispanic or Native American.<p>

"Help yourself," Jessica said.

"I'm Jennifer," the girl said. "Jennifer Brown. And this is James Berry."

"Hi. I'm Jessica Robinson."

"James and I were going to play some Exploding Snap. Would you like to join us?"

"I-I don't know that game. My parents…I mean, I'm not…"

"Oh, Muggle-born, eh?" Jennifer said. "No problem. We can teach you."

"It's not that hard," James added, "just watch your fingers."

"Maybe I could just watch."

"Suit yourself," Jennifer said with a shrug. She pulled a deck of cards from her purse and began to shuffle them. "Where are you from?"

"Kentucky."

"James and I are from Crones Creek, North Carolina."

"I've heard of Crones Creek," Jessica said. "I saw something about it at the museum."

"Probably about the Nunnehi," James said. "But I guess you probably don't know about them. They're powerful magical Beings, but most of them moved west with the Cherokees. Some stayed behind though, just like some of us did. I mean Cherokees. Both my parents are half-Cherokee."

"I see," Jessica said. But she really wasn't in a mood to talk. She worried about S.Q.U.I.D.s and flying broomsticks and stuck up little brats who made her feel stupid and the fact that the only person she knew on the entire bus was two years older than her and had plenty of other friends to visit with and all the things she didn't know about the world of wizards. How was she ever going to keep it all straight?

And what was going to happen with Kate's dad? She noticed Kate and her friends sitting at another table across the way. Kate was obviously filling Dana, Felicia, and Will in on her dad's arrest by the Bureau of Amulets, Talismans, and Fetishes, about the charges the goblins had made against him, and about the mysterious Miles Cowan, who had come back from Canada to accuse Mr. Burroughs of trafficking in Dark magic.

Suddenly a smug, self-assured voice broke her concentration.

"… Of course, I'm hoping to get in Strongfoot. That's my brother's house." Marcus Poole had apparently made a friend. He was walking toward Jessica's table with another boy. They had just bought some snacks at the refreshment stand.

"I'm the first in my family to go to Malkin Academy," the other boy explained. "My family just moved from Indiana."

"You've got to work hard and never give up if you want to be a Strongfoot." He commented sagely. He noticed Jessica sitting there. "But I guess some of us need to just hope for the best," he giggled. "'_Something that starts with an M_'? Give me a break! Reminds me of another word that starts with M, if you know what I mean…"

Jessica fumed.

She had no idea what Marcus Poole meant.


	10. Sorting

They sat and visited on the bus for two or three hours. Most of the students were enjoying themselves visiting, playing games, or hanging out around the refreshment stand. Jessica wished they would just get started. How long were they going to wait? Was someone important running late and the bus couldn't leave until he or she showed up? Were they having some kind of engine problems? She noticed, however, that most of the kids had retrieved their robes from their luggage and were putting them on. Jessica did the same.

The snaggle-toothed bus driver stood at the front of the bus and announced it was time to go. But rather than taking a seat, most of the other students stood up and began to gather their things. Everyone seemed to be lining up to get to the _back_ of the bus.

"You can leave your footlocker here," Kate told Jessica as they met up on their way to the back. "Just be sure you have your S.Q.U.I.D. with you. See you later. Good luck!" Kate smiled and hurried to rejoin Will, Felicia, and Dana.

Jessica, Jennifer, and James were among the last students in line. They realized students were lined up in front of the wardrobe next to the emergency exit. One student went in, then another, then another. Jessica couldn't imagine how they all fit! Then it was Jessica's turn. The bus driver opened the wardrobe door for her and she stepped inside.

"Straight through," he said. "No dawdling!" He shut the door behind her, there was a flash of orange light, and Jessica was plunged into darkness. She groped in the dark in front of her till her fingers found a doorknob. She pushed the door open and stepped out into…the school bus!

But wait: This wasn't the same school bus. Before, the wardrobe was to the left of the emergency exit, but the one she came out of was to the right. All the students who were ahead of her in line were now gathered facing the front of the bus. This bus didn't have game tables or a refreshment stand, either. Though it was still far wider and longer than any normal bus, it was full of the kinds of seats Jessica was used to seeing. Some students had taken seats. Most were still standing in the aisle.

A witch in a dark green robe stepped onto the bus. She was tall—at least six feet—and almost skeletally thin. Her complexion was a ghostly pale, and her short gray hair, though neatly trimmed, stuck up on top like a field of steely needles. She did not smile at all. Jessica gulped.

"Has everyone come through the Vanishing Cabinet? Good. First years, stay here," she announced. "The rest of you may exit the bus. Now." She stepped into the open space behind the drivers seat to make room for departing students.

Jessica stayed behind. Soon there were only a few dozen students left. Nearly all of them gazed up at the witch with expressions ranging from nervousness to outright horror.

"I am Vice Principal Goates," the witch said. "It is my responsibility to escort first-year students to the Dining Hall, where they will be sorted into their respective houses: Fairgarland, Quickfang, Strongfoot, or Proudfeather. Exceptional work will earn points for your house. Poor work, bad attitudes, and rule-breaking will cost your house points. At the end of the term, the house with the most points will be rewarded.

"You should know that I will also be your Transfiguration teacher, so we will be seeing a fair bit of each other over the next seven years. Furthermore," she scowled, "under Principal Towne I am the final authority on all disciplinary matters. If you break the rules, cheat on a test, or otherwise disrupt the learning environment, you will eventually answer to me." A short blonde-haired girl standing next to Jessica let out an anxious squeak. "I sincerely hope that we do _not_ see each other in that capacity.

"Your things will be attended to. Do all of you have your Sorting Questionnaire and Underlying Inclinations Diagnostics? Good. Follow me."

Her robes twirled as she turned to exit the bus. The first-year students followed.

Jessica could now see that the bus was parked in front of a great stone wall, in which was set a gate of wrought iron with the Malkin Academy coat of arms attached. The sun was low in the sky, but there was ample light to see the campus beyond the gate.

Vice Principal Goates waved her wand and the gates opened outward with a ponderous creak. As soon as she led her charges onto the campus the gates closed behind them as if shut by strong, invisible hands.

A lawn bounded by tidy rows of dogwoods and poplars greeted them, with a cobblestone lane encircling it and great colonial-style buildings on either side. Vice Principal Goates led them toward the lane to the right. They marched counter-clockwise up the lane toward what looked like a magnificent colonial mansion or plantation house. It was three stories tall, with its own great circular lawn in front of a porch that spanned the entire front of the building. Long, two-story buildings stretched out from the central building like the wings of a vast bird and were connected to the mansion by covered porticoes.

A figure trudged across the lawn from behind one of the side buildings to the right.

"Mr. Tragus," Vice Principal Goates called, "what on earth are you doing?"

As the figure came closer, Jessica could finally get a good look at him. He was bare-chested, and his skin was alabaster white, but his long curly hair was as black as midnight. Two curved, ridged horns sprouted from his temples. Jessica shuddered when she realized that below the waist he had the hairy black legs and cloven hooves of some monstrous goat. Mr. Tragus was a satyr.

As if that in itself weren't frightening enough, in his hand he gripped the bloodied carcasses of two large jackrabbits.

"Sorry, Ms. Goates, ma'am," he said. "I found these up on Warlocks Ridge. Looks like Old Tabbs got to 'em. Them and big ol' bicorn. Anyways, Ms. Hoskins said I should leave any fresh carrion for Mr. Corntassel for his carnivorous chicory patch 'cause they ain't been fed in a few weeks."

Vice Principal Goates nodded. Mr. Tragus ambled off to the left. "Mr. Tragus is Malkin Academy's gamekeeper," she explained. "He is one of several members of the support staff, whom you will no doubt have plenty of time to meet later. Now, let us not be late." They ascended a marble staircase onto the porch. Jessica added satyrs to her growing list of concerns about attending the Malkin Academy for the Magical Arts.

Vice Principal Goates led the students through the great wooden double doors into a richly appointed entry room. It was as big as Jessica's entire house. Two sets of stairs curved upwards to the right and to the left, and three more sets of double doors were positioned right, left, and center.

When everyone had gathered in, Vice Principal Goates turned to them once more. "All Malkin Academy students are assigned to a house," she explained. "Members of the same house will live in the same dormitories and take their classes together. Your house will be like your family as long as you are here. Do well and your house will be rewarded. Break the rules and your house will be punished.

"I will escort you to the head table," she continued. "There, you will stand in a line at the front of the room, between the staff table and the Brazier of Sorting. Form three rows of fourteen students each. Stand facing your fellow students, who will be seated in the main portion of the Dining Hall. As I call your name, come forward and drop your S.Q.U.I.D. into the Brazier of Sorting. When your house has been announced, you are free to find a seat at the appropriate table."

She then gestured toward the doors at the back of the entry room, and they silently opened of their own accord. Jessica walked into the Dining Hall. The room looked like something out of frontier times—like a hunting lodge, made from stone and rough-hewn timber, but far bigger than anything Jessica would have imagined. Along the walls were mounted trophies. There were bears, deer, and other game, including some that didn't seem possible. There was a curious beast that looked like a rabbit with antlers, and another fierce creature that somehow combined the most frightening features of a bear, a panther, and a lion.

There were two large brick hearths flanking the room to the right and to the left, with great iron kettles in them. There were no fires going, however. August was far too hot for fires in a fireplace. Four long tables spanned the room from the double doors to the semi-circular faculty table at the far end of the room. From left to right, the tables were decorated in iridescent silver with yellow, green, black, or red trim.

Vince Principal Goates led the first-year students down the center of the room, between the green and the black tables. Jessica breathed a sigh of relief when she spotted Kate about halfway down the black table.

The faculty sat in a concave apse. At the center sat an old man with wispy white hair pulled back into a ponytail, wearing dark brown dress robes trimmed in gold. Further down the table she spied the teacher who had delivered her Malkin acceptance letter, an African American man named Mr. Cryer. He winked as he caught Jessica's eye. The first-years got into place and turned to face the rest of the student body. Before them, between them and the student tables, was an iron brazier on a tripod. In it were gleaming coals that filled the room with a subtle aroma of incense.

"May I have your attention," Vice Principal Goates said. Though she didn't raise her voice, it seemed to carry easily throughout the room. Conversations suddenly stopped. "I present to you the Malkin Academy for the Magical Arts class of 2018."

The student body erupted into thunderous applause. It only lasted a minute, however. With a gesture Vice Principal Goates once again silenced the room.

"Many fine qualities can make a great witch or wizard. At Malkin Academy we honor them all: enthusiasm, ambition, persistence, creativity. Students are assigned to houses with those of similar temperaments, so that they might bring out the best in each other. Students also take classes with members of other houses so that—if they are wise—they might come to appreciate and even learn from those with different strengths.

"Sorting is a long-honored tradition at Malkin Academy. Tonight, that tradition continues."

She turned to face the first-year students. "Students," she said, "as I call your name, you may come forward to be sorted." She pulled a roll of parchment from inside her robe, unrolled it, and called, "Mary Adams."

A smiling African American girl stepped forward and dropped her sealed envelop into the fire. It immediately erupted in a puff of crimson smoke, which formed itself into the shape of a laughing man wearing a laurel wreath on his head. A disembodied voice, which seemed to come from everywhere, announced, "Fairgarland!" Students at the red table burst into applause and Mary Adams ran to the Fairgarland table. Kate's friend Dana cheered her on and offered her a seat next to hers.

"James Berry," Vice Principal Goates called. This was the half-Cherokee boy Jessica met on the bus. He strode forward confidently and placed his envelope in the fire.

"Quickfang!" the voice proclaimed as green smoke rose from the brazier in the form of a pouncing mountain lion. This time the green table cheered and whooped. James Berry took his place near the back of the Quickfang table.

Vice Principal Goates called for "Jennifer Brown." Jessica remembered her as James Berry's friend who wanted to play Exploding Snap. Jennifer winked at Jessica and walked forward. When she dropped her envelope in the brazier a black, smoky eagle took flight and the voice shouted, "Proudfeather!"

Next, Donna Cahill set her envelope precisely at the center of the brazier. Yellow smoke took the form of a stampeding buffalo as the voice called, "Strongfoot!"

Just then a couple of silvery, almost transparent figures entered the Dining Hall by passing straight through the wall. One was a very proper looking older woman in a dress that reached to her feet—though her feet floated several inches off the floor. The other was an Indian in breechcloth, deerskin leggings, and an ornate feathered headdress. He was bare-chested, and there were gruesome claw marks across his torso. Jessica remembered that Kate had once said something about "house ghosts."

Jessica found she was standing next to the blonde girl whom Ms. Goates frightened on the bus. Jessica whispered, "So…what did you think of the S.Q.U.I.D.?"

"Huh? Oh, I though it was kind of fun."

"Fun?"

"Sure. We had a nice conversation. It really liked my jokes."

Jessica wasn't sure she was hearing correctly. Her S.Q.U.I.D. was _anything_ but fun.

"Of course," the girl went on, "my brother hated it." Jessica then noticed the blonde-haired boy standing beside her neighbor. The two were obviously twins. "It just kept asking him question after question. He must have been in his room for seven or eight straight hours."

"Eight hours! What did he do?"

"He says all he knew to do was keep answering the questions. So that's what he did. All day long. He worked straight through lunch and was almost late for supper."

Jessica knew her S.Q.U.I.D. didn't take her more than an hour and a half. She pondered what all this meant as Patricia Carrier, Giordano Cellini, Barbara Diggle, and Robert Duncan were sorted into their houses. By this time three more ghosts had floated silently into the room: a grizzled African American in Revolutionary War clothing, a young woman wearing a short, straight flapper dress…and a Spanish conquistador!

"Does…uh…Does everyone get the same S.Q.U.I.D.?"

"I guess so," the blonde girl shrugged. "But it thinks for itself, you know? It probably mixes things up as it gets to know more about you. It figures out what the best questions to ask would be."

By this time Michael Easty, María Fidencio, Dustin Fitzgerald, Alejandra González, and Blaise Greensmith had taken their seats. When Apollonius Howe became a Proudfeather, his jet-black eagle soared high over the faculty table before dispersing. The old African American ghost tipped his tricorn hat to him. Hephzibah Ironwood's laughing man morphed into a life-size crimson wreath and followed her to the Fairgarland table like a smoky halo over her head. The flapper ghost clapped and smiled.

Next Vice Principal Goates called, "Susan Jacobs." "Proudfeather!" the voice boomed, and her eagle took flight to the center of the Dining Hall ceiling.

"At least you finished yours," said an almond-eyed boy in the row behind Jessica. "My parents didn't know anything about wizards or Malkin Academy. And then they sent me the S.Q.U.I.D.! It got me so frustrated I…well…." He held up his envelope, which looked far lumpier than Jessica's. "I ripped it up," he confessed, gritting his teach. "Stupid test!"

After Francisco Jaramillo was sorted into Fairgarland, Vice Principal Goates called for "Richard Kam."

"That's me!" said the boy with the ripped-up S.Q.U.I.D. He pushed past Jessica and strode toward the brazier with an air of resignation. He tossed his lumpy envelope into the flame. There was a blast of brilliant green smoke, which turned into a mountain lion that leaped among the tables and disappeared as it pounced at the mounted head of an antlered jackrabbit. "Quickfang!" the voice thundered. Richard Kam grinned and pumped his fist in the air as he ran to the Quickfang table.

Jessica decided she would have to remember to ask Kate what she did with _her_ S.Q.U.I.D.

The sorting proceeded to Charles Knapp, Gabriela León, Margaret Martin, LeAnne McKinnon, Quintavius Morton, Claudio Núñez, and Joseph Nutt. Then Vice Principal Goates called, "Dorothy Ogden." The blonde girl next to Jessica sprung forward and laid her envelope on the brazier. The voice announced, "Fairgarland!" A crimson wreath expanded until it reached from the floor to the ceiling before dispersing.

Next came "Thomas Ogden," and the girl's brother stepped forward. He set his envelope carefully upon the brazier and sighed with relief when the voice cried out, "Strongfoot!" A vast yellow buffalo trotted among the tables. The students at the Strongfoot table clapped and stomped their feet.

"Aisha Parsons" was the next name called. She was a tall African American girl with hazel eyes. She set her envelope in the flame. "Proudfeather!" the voice declared. A swooping black eagle enfolded her like a smoking, ghostly cloak as she made her way to the Proudfeather table.

Marcus Poole went next and was sorted into Strongfoot. He took a seat next to his brother, Claudius, and looked back at the remaining students with a satisfied smirk.

Lisa Putnam and Nancy Redd became Quickfangs.

Then Vice Principal Goates called, "Jessica Robinson."

Jessica only then realized her mouth had gone dry. Her heart was beating like a drum. She approached the Brazier of Sorting as if it might bite her, held out her envelope at arm's length, and let it drop into the flame.

An eagle of thick, black smoke erupted from the brazier, soared to the ceiling, and exploded like all-black fireworks. "Proudfeather!" the voice boomed to the oohs and ahs of everyone.

Jessica permitted herself to breathe. She ran to an empty seat Kate had been saving for her, where several older Proudfeathers patted her on the back.

The rest of the sorting was little more than a blur for Jessica. She was vaguely aware that Cassiopeia Rogers, Elizabeth Schuler, and Helen Scott were all sorted into Strongfoot. She was too busy trying to remember the names of the other new Proudfeathers, and Kate was quietly introducing her around the table to the older students.

William St. Germain, Mark Trittenheim, John Underhill, and Eridano Villa were sorted into their houses.

The last Proudfeather to be sorted was Daniel Wardwell, a lean, swaggering redhead.

Then came George Weathersky and Joy Zhang, who both became Fairgarlands.

The sorting complete, Vice Principal Goates waved her wand over the Brazier of Sorting and it vanished into thin air.

The white-haired man at the center of the faculty table arose. "Welcome to another year at Malkin Academy," he said.

"That's Principal Towne," Kate explained in a whisper. "He's been Principal since my parents went here."

"Before dinner is served I need to make the usual announcements. Students will receive their class schedules at breakfast tomorrow morning. Also, please remember that magic is not allowed in the hallways or in the quiet study areas of the library.

"Students are not permitted outside their dormitories after ten o'clock, those aged seventeen and older excepted, of course, as well as those with Astronomy assignments in the Observatory. Nor are underage students permitted to leave campus without permission. And yes, this includes not only Malkinville but also Powler Creek and Warlocks Ridge. There is, after all, both a lake and a pool on campus for swimming and, although Mrs. Choake is quite skilled in repairing whatever damage you may incur from the dangerous flora and fauna on Warlocks Ridge, she is—and I quote—'Getting too blasted old to run around patching up kids who don't have the sense the good Lord gave a flobberworm.'

"Tryouts for the house Quodpot teams will be announced in the coming weeks. Please see the bulletin boards in your respective dormitories for details.

"Knowing of no further announcements, please accept my wishes for a fruitful academic year. And now: Let's eat!"

Principal Towne clapped his hands twice. Suddenly plates of food appeared on every table. Jessica helped herself to baked chicken, sweet potatoes, peas, and cornbread muffins. Other students reached after plates of their own favorite foods.

After supper it was time for the students to find their dormitories. A couple of older Proudfeathers with gold stripes on their robes gathered everyone around them. "Proudfeathers, this way!" one of them called.

"Those are the house captains," Kate explained.

Kate, Jessica, and the other Proudfeathers got up from their table, returned to the entrance hall, and filed through the set of double doors to their left. They marched down a long hall of classrooms, went out a third set of double doors at the far end, and found themselves on one of the covered porticoes Jessica had noticed on her way in.

By now the sun had set and crickets were chirping. Glowing lanterns lit their way, and fireflies sparkled on the lawn. Straight ahead was one of the long buildings that stretched off the main house. Once they got there, however, the portico turned off to the left and led to a perpendicular second, seemingly identical, building farther down.

The Proudfeathers stopped at the turn. Dana and her fellow Fairgarlands proceeded to the second building behind their own house captains. Kate introduced Jessica to her twelve-year-old cousin, Bobby, who passed by with his fellow Fairgarlands. Kate explained that she had another cousin, Merlina Hoskins, who was a fourth-year Quickfang.

At the Proudfeather dormitory, a female house captain stood in front of a dark wooden door, in the center of which was a massive brass eagle's head grasping an enormous knocker in its beak. There was no doorknob or keyhole. The house captain grasped the knocker and gave it three solid thumps.

The brass eagle opened its eyes and glanced from side to side. It craned its head upward to gaze upon the gathered students and, without dropping the knocker from its mouth, said, "Password?"

"Melancholy Baby," the house captain said. The door creaked open.

Seventy Proudfeathers stepped into a huge lobby. There were sofas and chairs gathered in clusters all around the room and a massive stone fireplace against the far wall. The walls were covered with paintings—mostly nature scenes with clear blue skies and bald eagles soaring overhead. Black-and-white striped curtains adorned the windows. There was an upright piano in one corner and a large wooden bookshelf in another.

There were doors on either side of the fireplace. "Boys on the right," a different house captain called, "Girls on the left."

Jessica followed the girls through the doorway on the left. There was a staircase going up and four doors marked "G-1" to "G-4."

The older girls seemed to know that their rooms were upstairs, and most of those who stayed behind went immediately to one of the ground-floor rooms.

"I guess the number is what year you're in?" asked the African American first-year. Jessica thought she remembered her name was Aisha.

"That's right," said Kate from the doorway of room G-3.

Inside room G-1 Jessica found her footlocker at the foot of one of four massive beds with huge wooden headboards. The other girls found their things as well.

The room also sported four small desks with straight-backed chairs, four small closets, and a connecting bathroom. "Jessica, right?" said Jennifer, the fair-haired girl from the bus. "Jessica, do you mind trading beds with me? It looks like you're nearest the bathroom and I, well, sometimes I need to get up at night and…"

"No problem," Jessica said. The two girls switched their footlockers.

The other first-year, whose name was Susan Jacobs, asked, "Does anybody mind if I put up a poster? It's the Tampa Thunder."

"You can put up the Thunder if I can put up the Weird Sisters," Aisha said.

No one objected, so Susan put up her poster of eleven witches and wizards in purple and gold robes, each with broomsticks in their hands, smiling and patting each other on the back. Aisha fixed her poster of an aging rock-and-roll band directly above her headboard.

They all took a few minutes to unpack the rest of their things, claim the closets and desks they wanted, and take the whole thing in.

"Do any of you have older brothers or sisters at Malkin?" Jennifer Brown asked. "I'm an only child."

"I-I have two older brothers," Jessica volunteered. "But they didn't go here. They're not wizards."

"I remember," Jennifer said. "You told me on the bus you were Muggle-born."

"Really?" Aisha Parsons chimed in. "My mom works with Muggles all the time. She's an Obliviator."

"A what?"

"Well, whenever Muggles accidentally see magic, Obliviators come around and do memory charms to make them forget it."

Jessica wasn't quite sure what to say to that, so she simply answered, "Wow."

"Anyway, I'm the oldest kid in my family. I've got a little brother who'll start in another two years, and a baby sister a year after that. If they live that long!" The girls chuckled at Aisha's joke.

"My baby sister is only five," Susan Jacobs said. "But I've got older cousins here, Jeremy and Becky Loew. Jeremy's in fifth year and Becky's in third. They're in Strongfoot House.

"You have my sympathy!" Jessica said. The words had escaped her mouth before she realized what she was saying. "Sorry! I mean…I'm sure they're nice and everything. It's just that I've already had run-ins with a brat of a Strongfoot first-year."

"I bet it was that Poole boy, wasn't it," Aisha said.

"How'd you know?"

"I noticed him on the bus, acting all high and mighty. That boy better be careful or I'm gonna cross his sorry self!"

"You're gonna what?"

"Cross him. You know: jinx him, put a spell on him. It's slang. And I bet he was giving you a hard time about being Muggle-born. Am I right? He's just prejudiced. Thinks he's better than other wizards 'cause he comes from an all-magic family."

"What an idiot," Susan Jacobs said. "I bet if you went back far enough you'd find plenty of Muggles in his family tree."

"Probably plenty of trolls, too!" Jennifer Brown added.

"Big, ugly ones!" Aisha said. All four girls began to laugh. Susan pantomimed a dull, brutish troll stomping around the room. Soon they were all in stitches.

"But Jessica, there's one thing." Aisha's voice said she was serious. The other girls settled down.

"Don't you let that boy call you no names."

"You said it," Susan agreed. Jennifer nodded.

"I don't understand," Jessica said. "What names?"

"Well, bigots like that have all kinds of names for…well, for Muggle-born witches and wizards."

Jessica thought for a minute and realized prejudiced people in the Muggle world also had a lot of ugly words they used against folks they didn't like.

"Oh."

"The worst one is…well, it starts with an M. My parents would kill me if I said it out loud." Susan and Jennifer must have known what word she was thinking of. They winced at the thought of it. "Anybody who calls you that is asking for a fight. No question about it."

"And if _I_ hear anybody call _you_ that," Susan said, "they're gonna have to fight _me_ when _you're_ through with them!"

"Yep," said Jennifer. "Proudfeather girls got to stick together. Right, ladies?"

"Right!" they all said together.

"Good grief, look at the time," Susan said. "We'd better turn in if we want to be ready for class tomorrow."

The girls took turns in the bathroom getting ready for bed. Jessica kicked off her covers and slid into her bed.

It had been a long day, but it ended well.


	11. First Day Disasters

Jessica, Jennifer, Aisha, and Susan arrived in the Dining Hall for breakfast just after seven the next morning. Rufus, the Revolutionary-era Proudfeather ghost, greeted them at the door.

As soon as they sat down a tall man with long gray hair approached them. He had an almost regal appearance, proud and authoritative, and older than seemed humanly possible, though he still had a spring in his step. Under his open black robe he wore blue jeans, a white cotton shirt, and a pair of well-worn moccasins. His braided leather shoestring tie had a silver clasp with an eagle design. His wand, which he tapped carelessly against his shoulder, was two feet long with a braided leather handle at one end and a tuft of eagle feathers at the other.

"Good morning, ladies," he said with a smile. "I'm Mr. Corntassel. I'm the head of Proudfeather house. We'll meet again later today, but I know you're interested in your class schedules."

Mr. Corntassel carried a stack of small, ivory sheets of parchment. Three other teachers did the same at the other tables: Mr. Malleus, stern-faced and businesslike, for Quickfang; an old African American wizard for Strongfoot; and a pretty young witch for Fairgarland.

The Head of Proudfeather flipped through his cards until he found the four he wanted and passed them out to the girls. On the parchment was a calendar grid showing the week's classes arranged according to the time each class met. Jessica scanned the first column of her schedule, which read:

Monday  
>8:00–8:50 General Magic (Jarvis Conference Room)<br>9:00–9:50 Break  
>10:00–10:50 Defense Against the Dark Arts (Osserly 203)<br>11:00–11:50 Transfiguration (Osserly 118)  
>12:00–12:50 Lunch<br>1:00–1:50 Study Hall (Jarvis Second Floor)

"Jarvis is the Dewy Jarvis Library. You may have noticed the building with the tall tower as you came in last night? Osserly Hall is the main building, where we are now.

"You'll see you have a break scheduled for nine o'clock. As the term progresses, I hope you'll make the best use of your break times to complete any assignments or homework for which you're responsible. Today, however, I'd like to meet with all my new first-years in my office, which is in Parkinson Hall—across the lawn from the library—Room E. Do you have any questions? Then if you will excuse me…"

He turned to approach Kate and Felicia, who had just then entered the Dining Hall. He exchanged pleasantries with them and handed them their class schedules from his stack.

After a quick breakfast the girls sped back to their room to collect the books and supplies they would need for the day. "General Magic," it turned out, was a kind of basic wizarding course that all first-years took together. The teacher was Ms. Lector, the head librarian. She was a plump, sour-faced woman about as tall as Jessica, or maybe the least bit shorter.

Ms. Lector led all forty-two first-years on a brief tour of the Malkin Academy campus. She walked the students back up the lawn toward the front gates, explaining the purpose of each building. Next to the Library was Derwent Hall, which housed the infirmary, gymnasium, and student commons. Across the lawn was the Guest House and Parkinson Hall, in which Herbology and Potions classes met, and where the school's owlery was located.

Next they passed through Osserly Hall, the main campus building, and even got to peek inside a couple of classrooms. They left through a back exit, and for the first time Jessica realized that the little cluster of buildings she had seen last night was only a small part of the campus. Behind Osserly Hall was a great grassy area, at least as big as the front lawn, lined with several outbuildings: storage buildings, a broom shed, and a carriage house with two old yellow school buses parked inside. She could also see all four house dormitories from there. Beyond this back lawn was a great open space that went back about two or three miles. She could barely see the top of the stone boundary wall at the far end. Standing with her back to Osserly Hall, Jessica saw a cluster of faculty houses to her left, the Quodpot stadium to her right, and straight ahead a great rolling field. There was a mile-long lake in the middle with trees growing all around.

They circled around between the Quodpot field and the Fairgarland and Proudfeather dormitories to approach the library from the rear. By 8:49 they were back in front of the library and Ms. Lector dismissed them.

Jessica, Jennifer, Aisha, and Susan headed straight across the lawn to Parkinson Hall for their meeting with Mr. Corntassel. His office was full of bookshelves that contained not only row after row of books but also dozens of glass jars with samples of various roots, leaves, and twigs.

"First, let's do something about those neckties," he said. He turned to each student in turn and, with a wave of his hand, transformed their plain white cravats or ties into black ones covered with silhouettes of soaring white eagles.

Next he offered everyone fruit candies and invited them to sit on one of three overstuffed sofas around a great wooden coffee table. There Jessica got to meet the first-year Proudfeather boys. Daniel Wardwell seemed laid-back and likeable. He had apparently already become fast friends with Dustin Fitzgerald, who acted more serious. Apollonius Howe was always careful to say "Yes, sir" and "No, sir." When Blaise Greensmith learned Susan was from Florida, he ribbed her about how his Quodpot team, the Asheville Warhawks, beat the Tampa Thunder in last season's semi-finals. Mr. Corntassel said he was pleased to meet them all and wished them a successful term.

Next came Defense Against the Dark Arts, which the Proudfeathers took with the Fairgarlands. After taking roll, Mr. Malleus gave them all a pre-test "just to see how much you already know." Jessica bluffed her way through the vampire and werewolf questions based on what she had seen in movies, but she was completely stumped when it came to grindylows, boggarts, haints, and red caps. Nor did she have a clue about the differences between curses, hexes, and jinxes.

Jessica had dreaded Transfiguration since she learned the teacher was the severe Ms. Goates. Her heart sunk even deeper when she saw that her house would be paired with Strongfoot for the class. The eleven Strongfoots and eight Proudfeathers trickled into the classroom, which was arranged in four straight rows of five desks each. She nodded to Thomas Ogden, Dorothy's twin brother, and tried her best not to notice Marcus Poole sitting near the middle of the classroom next to a boy whose name she had forgotten.

At precisely 11:00 Vice Principal Goates entered the classroom from a storage room. She took roll and immediately began to summarize the first chapter of _A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_. She wrote complex magical equations on the whiteboard in color-coded marker, cross-referencing the page numbers of figures and tables as she reproduced them from memory without a single note in front of her. She only stopped when she ran out of room and had to conjure out of thin air a second—and then a third—board on which to write. It was obvious she assumed they had already read the chapter, even though it was only their first day! Jessica took notes as fast as she could. Everyone else in the class did the same—Proudfeather and Strongfoot alike, she was pleased to note.

Halfway through the session, Vice Principal Goates stopped writing.

"Now, let's see if we can apply what we have learned. Wands out!" she said. The students pulled their wands from their book bags. The teacher slipped a box of matches from the drawer of her desk. With a wave of her wand (which was far shorter than any of theirs and ornately carved), the box slid open and a single match levitated onto the desk of each student.

"Your task is to transfigure your match into a needle, using the principals we have just discussed from your textbook. The incantation is '_Acufors_.' Begin."

Jessica gripped her wand tentatively. She tried to give it a little swish like she did at Lipinsky's while muttering "_Acufors_." Nothing seemed to happen. After two or three tries, Dustin Fitzgerald at least got his match to twitch a little bit. A second later a dark-haired Strongfoot girl managed to produce a sharp point on one end of hers. Vice Principal Goates simply said, "The goal, Miss González, was to produce a needle, not a toothpick. Try again."

Jessica sighed heavily.

"Giving up already?" Marcus Poole whispered from two desks over.

Jessica gave him a withering glare and tried to concentrate even harder.

"Miss Robinson, mind your wand movement," Vice Principal Goates cautioned her. "This is not a sword fight! You must make a graceful arc. All of you, remember: You must concentrate intently on the final form you intend to produce. Banish any other thoughts from your mind. Continue."

She heard Marcus sniggering but refused to look at him. "_Acufors_," she muttered, trying to get her wand movement just right. _Think of a needle_, she told herself. "_Acufors_…." Her match twitched slightly. It began to glow with silver light. Before her eyes the match began to shrink.

Around the room she heard the gasps of her fellow students. A boy said, "Ms. Goates, look at this!" But she didn't take her eyes off her match. She had to concentrate.

"What's it doing?" she heard Aisha say.

_Needle_, she thought. _Be a needle!_ In another second her match had indeed transfigured. To be sure, it was not terribly shiny, but it was clearly metallic. It was unmistakably a (somewhat overlarge) sewing needle.

"Well done!" she heard Vice Principal Goates say. "I wouldn't have expected such quality on the first day of class. Well done, indeed. I believe that merits five points for Strongfoot house."

What?

At last Jessica looked up. Two desks over, Vice Principal Goates was admiring Marcus Poole's perfect, shiny needle.

* * *

><p>Kate's day began with Care of Magical Creatures. She was happy to see she would have the rest of the morning free as her classmates went to elective classes she had not signed up for. Thinking she could use that time to track down the Cup of Kings in the library, she filled her book bag with extra parchment and quills and headed off.<p>

The Care of Magical Creatures classroom was located at the back of the library. It was a big, airy room with lots of windows, although Kate knew that most of the time class would actually meet in the wooded area directly outside.

She had been looking forward to this class most of all, as the teacher was a cousin of hers. She reminded herself that at school, she was "Ms. Hoskins," not "Miss Vivian," which is what she called her at home in Cauldron Bottom.

Proudfeather and Quickfang third-years filed into the classroom. There was no sign of their teacher, but her pet kneazle, Scratch, paced back and forth across her desk. At a few minutes past eight, Ms. Hoskins came in the side door that led out onto the grounds. Instead of a robe, which most of the teachers preferred, she wore jeans and a plaid flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up. She smiled pleasantly to her students and brushed a lock of wavy blonde hair from her eyes.

She skimmed over her class list to ensure that everyone was present, then sat cross-legged on her desk with her kneazle in her lap and talked with the students about what they would be studying this year. She explained the difference between a Beast and a Being. As best Kate could follow, Beings were basically everything intelligent enough to participate in wizarding society—provided they weren't going to try to eat you. They had a lively discussion of how the wizarding government classified and regulated magical Beasts.

Toward the end of class, a boy raised his hand with a question.

"What is it, Victor?"

"Ms. Hoskins, everybody says there's a monster on Warlocks Ridge. But is there any proof?"

"I see you've heard of Old Tabbs," Ms. Hoskins said. Most students had heard rumors about some kind of creature in the woods, even though no one seemed certain what it was.

"My older sister says it once killed a student, a long time ago," said Phinehas Buzzard, a Proudfeather boy.

Victor spoke up. "I heard it was a hunting party that was trying to track it down."

"No, Phinehas is right," said Will Proctor. "It was a seventh-year boy. My older brother told me they never even found the body!"

"If they never found the body, how do they know it was Old Tabbs?" Victor argued.

"Now, everybody hold your hippogriffs," Ms. Hoskins said. "Let's not get carried away. The truth is, there _is_ a large predator on Warlocks Ridge—been there about fifteen years or so. But whatever you've heard about it attacking people is just rumor."

Now everyone was sitting up in their chairs, many with hands raised.

"But what is it? Does anybody know?"

"I bet it's a glawackus!"

"My sister says it's a werewolf."

Ms. Hoskins held up her hand and brought the class back to order. "I sure hope y'all are this excited when we start talking about all the magical creatures that are actually in the syllabus!

"Now, nobody has ever seen it, though my assistant, Mr. Tragus, thinks he's come close a few times. We both suspect it's a magical creature with catlike characteristics: an Ozark howler, or maybe a glawackus. Now, who can tell me the differences between an Ozark howler and a glawackus? Nobody? Well, then. I guess y'all signed up for the right class!" As if on cue, the bell rang. And with a wink and a smile, Ms. Hoskins dismissed her students.

As soon as class was over, Kate headed back to the front of the library to see what she could find about the Cup of Kings. Will Proctor had Arithmancy at 10:00, but agreed to stay with her during his break to help her search. (Felicia had Divination and Dana had Muggle Studies, or Kate was sure they would have been there, too.) They staked out a table at the back of the second floor, well away from the second-years whose General Magic class was beginning in the Conference Room and also at a comfortable distance from some surly fifth-years.

She found a brief mention of King Jamshid in the original British edition of _A History of Magic_ that had been deleted from the most recent version. Kate frowned when she saw it was merely a passing reference to the introduction of manticore-hair wand cores during his reign. Figuring the creation of a powerful magical cup would be a clever feat of Charms work, she skimmed the table of contents and indices of both _Achievements in Charming_ and _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes_—to no avail.

Meanwhile, Will thought to track down the goblin connection. He found a book called _Goblin Magic: What They're Not Telling Us_ by Uther Pettibone. Unfortunately, the book was mostly a tirade against goblins for keeping their trade secrets to themselves. Very little of what "they're not telling us" was actually discussed.

On his second attempt, Will brought Kate a thick leather-bound book called _Studies in Goblin-Human Relations_. The first chapter outlined the earliest history of wizards' interactions with goblinkind. There was a dry, lengthy discussion of goblin metallurgy and its importance to the development of Bronze Age civilization, including a seven-page excursus on the trade in goblin-wrought wares in the ancient wizarding economy. There was nothing, however, about King Jamshid and his Cup.

At 9:45 Will packed up his things to head for class. Kate wished him well and gave _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charmes_ one more look. Seeing nothing she had missed the first twenty times, she slammed to book shut.

_This would be easier if I knew what the cup was supposed to do_, she thought. She wondered if there might be anything useful in the restricted section. If so, she'd have to get a teacher's permission to look there and at least have a general idea of what to look for. Mr. Malleus _might_ write her a note, and a look through the Dark Arts section wouldn't be a bad idea. Her first Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson was that afternoon. Maybe she would talk to him after class.

During Study Hall all the third-years were required to study quietly in the library. So, as eleven o'clock approached, Kate made her way to the large quiet study area on the second floor. Kate read the chapter of _Magical Creatures of North America_ that Ms. Hoskins had assigned. She tried to fill Dana and Felicia in on what she and Will had found, but Mr. Reddit, the assistant librarian, shushed her every time she even thought of whispering to her neighbors.

Finally came lunch. Kate and her friends walked back to the dorms to gather the books they would need for their afternoon classes. Along the way she could finally explain about all the dead-ends she encountered. Lunch was well underway by the time they arrived at the Dining Hall. Kate sat down at the Proudfeather table and helped herself to a chicken salad sandwich and a large bowl of fruit salad. She had the strange impression that people were staring at her, however, though she didn't know why.

She was only two or three bites into her sandwich when her cousin, Merlina, approached her from the Quickfang table. Merlina was about as tall as Kate. She wasn't what anyone would call fat, but she wasn't thin, either. "Solid" was probably the best word to describe her. She brushed her bushy brown hair back out of her face.

"Have you seen this?" she asked. Only then did Kate realize she had a copy of _Wizarding World Today_ in her hand. "Your dad made the front page." She didn't seem happy about this development. When Kate saw the headline, she understood why:

_**GOBLINS INVESTIGATE BUSINESSMAN**_

_**By Phyllis Catchpole**_

_**GEORGETOWN – The Bureau of Goblin Affairs has confirmed to WWT that Cauldon Bottom businessman Henry Burroughs is the subject of an investigation spearheaded by Gringotts Wizarding Bank. Gringotts launched its own investigation when the Bureau of Amulets, Talismans, and Fetishes refused to act on charges the goblin community brought against Mr. Burroughs earlier this month.**_

_** Spokesgoblin Zardgrog claims Gringotts's Security Division has credible evidence linking Burroughs to the theft fifteen years ago of an ancient goblin-wrought artifact. Zardgrog believes Burroughs's original intention was to deliver this artifact to the British Dark wizard who styled himself Lord Voldemort, but that for reasons unknown he instead chose to keep it for himself, and has been benefiting from its magical enchantments ever since. Zardgrog refused to discuss the specific nature of this artifact, other than to insist that, as a goblin-wrought item of great antiquity, the goblin community is deeply troubled by the A.T.F.'s refusal to pursue the matter. (Story continued on page 4.)**_

"I can't believe this," Kate sighed, her hands shaking. Will and Felicia peered over her shoulder to see what she was reading. The three traded worried glances. Kate flipped to page four to continue reading:

_** "The charges are completely without merit," asserts A.T.F. field agent Jonathan Good. "I am confident Mr. Burroughs will be exonerated, and I regret the turmoil this affair must be causing to him and his family."**_

_** For their part, the goblins have pursued the issue with their customary aggressiveness. They have already conducted a thorough search of Burroughs's house and the general store he has run since he graduated from the Malkin Academy for the Magical Arts.**_

_** Zardgrog says his team of investigators has retraced the artifact's most recent movements in Europe and America. They believe they know when and where the artifact at last came into Burroughs's possession and will soon have the final pieces of the puzzle.**_

_** Burroughs is the owner-proprietor of the Cauldron Bottom General Store, a business that has been in his family for four generations. Under Burroughs's management, the store has become an important retail outlet for witches and wizards throughout the Appalachian region. **_

"They searched my house," Kate whispered. "They went through my things! The dirty, rotten—"

The bell rang signaling classes would resume in ten minutes.

She turned to Felicia. "Tell Mr. Malleus I'm going to be a late. Tell him I'm sick. Tell him anything!" She pushed back her chair and bolted from the table.

Kate barged into her empty dorm room, retrieved stationery and an envelope from her writing desk, and scribbled a hurried note to her parents. She addressed and sealed the envelope, stuck it in her book bag, and raced across campus to Parkinson Hall. She fumed as she had to wait for the sixth-year Potions students to clear the hallway so she could make it to the steep, narrow stairs up to the owlery.

Hopefully, Hector was already flying her way with word from her parents. She had to know what was going on. She spied a light gray barn owl that seemed reasonably awake and placed the letter in its beak.

"I'm sorry, I don't have anything for you, but I'll give you all the owl treats you want when you get back." The owl nodded and took off through one of the owlery's huge glassless windows.

Kate spun around and vaulted down the steps two at a time. She sped back to Osserly Hall and up the stairs on the left. As she expected, by the time she barged into Room 203 class was already underway. Twenty pairs of Fairgarland and Proudfeather eyes turned toward her. She stood in the doorway, red-faced and breathing heavily.

"Please have a seat, Miss Burroughs," Mr. Malleus said. He made no further comment and, to Kate's great relief, chose not to penalize Proudfeather any house points. Kate noticed a folded copy of _Wizarding World Today_ on his desk. Mr. Malleus resumed his lecture on werecreatures and their similarities and differences from Animagi, wampus cats, and other shape-shifters. Kate pretended to take notes. Then the bell rang and Kate, Felicia, and Will headed downstairs to Transfiguration class.

"Don't worry, Kate," Felicia said as they made their way down the staircase against a rising tide of fourth-years. "Dana's dad knows the goblins are wrong. He'll be able to do something."

Kate simply stared into space.

Crash!

In her distraction Kate slammed into a fellow student on her way to Vice Principal Goates's room. It was Claudius Poole.

"Oh! Uh, sorry Kate. Let me help you with that..." Kate hadn't even noticed that her books and Claudius's had spilled over the floor. Claudius had knelt down to sort them all into two neat piles. Kate shook off her unhappy reverie and joined him on the floor.

"No, it's my fault Claudius. I wasn't paying attention."

"Kate, I...uh...," Claudius looked terribly nervous about something. "I just wanted you to know...I saw that story in the paper...I don't believe it. I don't believe your dad was—"

"That's sweet of you to say, Claudius," Kate sniffed.

"Move along, children! You'll be late for class!" Kate looked up to see the ghost of a tight-lipped woman in a floor-length dress hovering over them.

"Yes, ma'am, Lady Alice," Claudius said. The ghost turned up her nose and floated briskly away. Lady Alice, the Strongfoot house ghost, was never shy about telling students when they fell short of her exacting standards.

Claudius glanced at his watch. "She's right. The bell is about to ring. Is this your History of Magic book or mine? And this Magical Creatures book has got to be yours. I think that's everything." They both began to stuff their books back in their book bags.

"Thanks, Claudius. Have a good class."

"You, too, Kate. I'll...uh...See you around?"

"Sure," Kate said.

Transfiguration class was an even bigger waste of time than Defense Against the Dark Arts for Kate. Try as she might, she simply could not turn her wood chip into a woodchuck. Even Will, who was never very good at Transfiguration, was at least able to produce dark brown fur and four stubby legs on his. Kate couldn't even do this, to the consternation of Vice Principal Goates.

The bell rang at 2:50, and the first day of school was finally over. Kate plodded back to her room, where she stayed for the rest of the day.


	12. Unwelcome Visitors

Jessica was getting into the rhythm of life at Malkin Academy. After the tour of campus on the first day, Ms. Lector spent the rest of the week on "Magical Research and Writing," which seemed to be her excuse to curb the students' enthusiasm for learning any magic at all by showing them how difficult it was to write a well-researched essay on magical subjects.

On Tuesday, she met Madame Glapion, the Potions teacher. She was the pretty dark-haired witch who gave the Fairgarland students their class schedules. She was younger than most of the other teachers and spoke with a charming New Orleans accent. Jessica learned that Madame Glapion's husband had died years before, although she refused to feel sorry for herself. In fact, smiling seemed to come as easily to her as strictness did to Ms. Goates. Her classroom held five large tables around which students worked in groups of four. The walls were lined with cabinets full of potion ingredients of every sort, and a fire was always burning in the fireplace under a large iron kettle.

Madame Glapion was Jessica's favorite teacher so far, although she wasn't exactly the most organized. She seemed to flit from topic to topic, telling stories and going off on interesting tangents instead of sticking to the assigned topics. She asked lots of questions about all of her students, where they were from, and what was going on in their lives.

Like Transfiguration, first-year Proudfeathers took Charms with Strongfoot house. Daniel Wardwell was far and above the best from either house at Charms. The best Strongfoot was the dark-haired girl who had almost done the match-to-needle transfiguration, whom Jessica learned was named Alejandra González. Jessica was pleased to see that Marcus Poole didn't seem to have any great potential for Charms.

The Charms teacher was Ms. Ruiz, who spoke very quickly. The students all took notes at a furious pace in her class, but at least she would stop and repeat herself if she got too far ahead of them.

On the first day of class, she demonstrated a simple Hover Charm by levitating a heavy black paperweight and flying it around the classroom. Jessica was relieved that she only expected her students to practice with feathers!

The Astronomy class with Mr. Ash met in the Observatory on the top floor of the library. They met during the day to learn theory and were required to make observations of the stars and planets every Monday night. Astronomy was, to put it kindly, boring. Jessica had never been terribly confident at math, and Astronomy seemed to involve a lot of it! Fortunately, Susan and Aisha both seemed to be keeping up. With any luck, they could help her get through it.

After class on Tuesday, Jessica returned to the library to check out a book she had noticed the day before when Ms. Lector was teaching them how to use the card catalog: _Wandlore for Beginners_ by Jocelyn Branch. She smiled to herself when she saw there was an entire chapter on wand cores.

Jessica's last two classes were Herbology, taught by Mr. Corntassel, and History of Magic with Mr. Rainey, an old African American wizard. Herbology reminded her a little of helping her mom in their flower garden. She was amazed to learn about the many things magical plants were used for in the wizarding world.

She also learned more about Mr. Corntassel. He had taught at Malkin Academy for about eighty years! In that time, he had taught most of the core classes at one time or another, although his favorites were Herbology and Potions.

The only thing Jessica didn't like about Herbology was the root cellar, which was home to an especially ill-mannered haint. Haints, Jessica learned, were not exactly the same as ghosts. They were solid enough to move objects or even throw things, and they were very protective of their territory. She had a run-in with the haint on her first day of Herbology. Mr. Corntassel had sent her to the root cellar to fetch some dried toadstools, but as soon as she stepped off the bottom step she heard creaking and moaning noises as if she had stepped into a haunted house. She shrieked and bolted back up the stairs, although Mr. Corntassel assured her that all she needed to do was light the tip of her wand and the haint would hide in a corner until she left.

Mr. Rainey was the head of Strongfoot house. Jessica thought he would be fair—but very demanding. "I know some of you don't see the point of studying the History of Magic," he said on Wednesday. "You don't do any magic at all in this class: no spells, no potions, no nothing. This is the class where witches and wizards learn where they came from and why that's important.

"So all you hotshots who think you're something because you can do tricks with a wand are just going to have to get over yourselves. There's no spell that can help you pass this course. It's going to take hard work, every day, from now to the end of the term.

"So put away your wands and take out your quills. I want to give you an overview of the three major influences on the Magical Arts in America. They are: the Anglo-Celtic, the West African, and the Native American..."

Throughout the first week of school Jessica wished she could spend more time with Kate. It wasn't long until the entire school had heard about the article in _Wizarding World Today_ and the charges against Kate's dad. Most students agreed that Kate was a nice, honest girl, but many admitted they didn't know anything about her parents. _Could_ Mr. Burroughs have been wrapped up in something criminal? A lot of students seemed willing to consider that possibility.

Things only got worse the following Monday, when _The Caterwaul_, the student newspaper, published its first issue of the term. Kate's father and the accusations of the goblins made the front page.

Even with Jessica's concern for Kate and her family, though, her second week at Malkin flew by quickly. One thing was sure: her teachers didn't believe in wasting any time! They all seemed to pile on the work, and Jessica was beginning to wonder how she would be able to keep up.

First-years had a break after lunch on Thursday, but many of them had taken to heart their heads of houses' admonition to use this time wisely. Jessica headed for the library to work on her first paper, a short essay on jinxes and counter-jinxes for Mr. Malleus.

There was a crowd of students on the library steps. Most of them were first-years, but there was also a sprinkling of older students. The doors were shut and, apparently, locked.

"This is ridiculous," an older student said. "When can we get into the library? I've got a paper due! I need a book in the restricted section. I've got a note from Ms. Goates and everything!"

Another ten minutes passed. Aisha, Jennifer, and Susan decided they could study in their room, but Jessica wanted to practice looking things up in the card catalog the way Ms. Lector had showed them. Most of the other first-years also gave up. (As a group, the Strongfoots were most willing to wait; half of the Proudfeather and Fairgarland first-years left after only five or ten minutes.)

After another five minutes, the door finally opened and Ms. Lector stepped out onto the porch.

"The library is closed for the rest of the day," she announced. "The remaining classes that meet in the library today have been cancelled." There was a howl of outrage from the older students. Most of the first-years resigned themselves to finding other places to study, but curiosity was growing in some—including Jessica—who now wanted more than anything to know what was going on.

"My paper...!"

"...deserve an explanation..."

"...I don't understand..."

A stern-looking Vice Principal Goates appeared at the library door. Her very presence seemed to quiet the crowd.

"Ms. Lector has told you," she said through gritted teeth, "that the library is closed. It will open again tomorrow morning at 7:30, as usual."

"But Vice Principal Goates," cried the student with the paper due. She cut him off with a smoldering stare.

"That is the end of the matter," she said. A second later she added, "I do not ask you to like this, merely to accept it."

Ms. Lector opened the library door for Vice Principal Goates, who stalked back inside. As Ms. Lector followed, Jessica caught sight of another figure inside. It was a bald man even shorter than the head librarian. He had a long hooked nose and batlike ears.

Jessica recognized at once that he was a goblin.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe Principal Towne is letting goblins search the campus!" Dana wailed as she sat with Will and Kate in Derwent Hall's student commons. She took a sip of her Fizzbang Soda (hot cinnamon) and nearly slammed the bottle down on the coffee table in front of her.<p>

"I guess he doesn't have a choice," Will proposed. "He doesn't want a goblin rebellion on his hands."

"Still, the nerve!" Dana was fuming. "How long are they going to be here? What if they decide to shut down the whole campus? I'd never stand for it!"

"Nobody likes the idea," Kate said flatly.

"You got that right," Dana said. "You should have seen Goates during Transfiguration. She looked like she was about to explode. I mean, I've seen her plenty mad before, but nothing like this. She practically tore Bashari Parris's head off when his wood chip turned into a corn chip instead of a woodchuck."

The whole campus did seem to be on edge. No one had ever said why the goblins were there, but most students assumed it had to do with the story in Monday's _Wizarding World Today_. The second issue of _The Caterwaul_ similarly put two and two together. Despite notices about Quodpot tryouts, an interview with Annabelle the Fairgarland house ghost, and the first meeting of the Charms Club, Kate's family woes continued to dominate the news at Malkin Academy. Kate did note, however, that Claudius Poole had written a summary of the _WWT_ story in which he defended Mr. Burroughs's innocence. Even so, Kate didn't appreciate being the center of everyone's attention. People didn't think she noticed how conversations suddenly ended as she entered a room, but she did.

The previous Wednesday morning Hector, the Burroughs family owl, had delivered a letter from her parents. It simply said, "Hang in there. We're sorting this out. We love you." That was all. Kate took it there was nothing else to tell, or perhaps they wanted to spare her details that would make her frightened or angry. But she was frightened and angry anyway and didn't see how keeping her in the dark was helping. She considered the possibility the goblins were reading their mail—or at least would like to. Maybe that's why her mom and dad said so little.

The goblins—there were four of them—had taken over the Guest House. They spent all Thursday afternoon in the library, and someone had started a rumor they went back every night after 9:00 when it was closed to students. They were still on campus Monday morning, skittering along the corridors of Osserly Hall like foul, nosy cockroaches. Mainly, however, they kept to the third floor, which contained the Principal's Office and the school's records archive.

Fortunately, they took their meals at the Guest House. Kate couldn't imagine having to eat in the same room with them.

Kate's dragged herself through her classes. In addition to the basic subjects, Kate took Care of Magical Creatures, Muggle Studies, and Ancient Runes. Nothing seemed to shake her from the doldrums. On the second Wednesday of Care of Magical Creatures, the class met in the open grassy space behind the library. Mr. Tragus led a strange creature into the clearing from a hidden side entrance on the campus wall. It was a winged deer, which Ms. Hoskins identified as a peryton. Ms. Hoskins told them all about the creature while Mr. Tragus held on tight to the rope around its to neck keep it from flying away. Everyone else gushed over how interesting the lesson was, but Kate had merely doodled in her notebook. It was just too hard to stay focused. She was glad Will Proctor had taken the same three electives she had in addition to Arithmancy. Will was not what anyone would call an accomplished wizard, but he took excellent notes and could usually be counted on to turn in good written work. Kate hoped he would be able to pull her through until everything got back to normal.

In Muggle Studies, Mr. Cryer assigned them readings from an anthology of Muggle literature and had them write short reflections describing what the poems and stories revealed about how Muggles looked at the world. For "The Moon and the Yew Tree" by a Muggle poet named Sylvia Plath, Kate wrote, "Muggles believe the world is nothing but blackness and silence. I can't say I blame them."

Worst of all was Ancient Runes with Ms. Svenson-Benson. She was shorter, fatter, and ruddier than Ms. Goates, but she was every bit as demanding. She wasn't exactly strict. It was more like she enjoyed complaining. She must not have realized it was possible to be happy if she weren't complaining about something. She complained about how hot the weather was. She complained about how slowly the students were catching on. She complained about the food in the Dining Hall, and how there was no place in nearby Malkinville that served a decent lutefisk. (Kate later looked up lutefisk in the dictionary and found out it was dried whitefish soaked in cold water and lye. If this was Ms. Svenson-Benson's favorite food, Kate reasoned, then that explained a lot.)

She stood in front of the class, fanning herself constantly, as she had them copy the shapes of runes, learn their names, and take notes on their magical properties.

Halfway through Ancient Runes at the end of the second week of school Mr. Corntassel arrived at Ms. Svenson-Benson's door.

"Silvia," he said, "I'm afraid I need to borrow Kate for the rest of the hour." Ms. Svenson-Benson rolled her eyes but didn't otherwise protest. Kate gathered her things and joined Mr. Corntassel in the hall. He did not look happy.

"Kate, I'm afraid we're going to the Principal's Office," he said.

"What? What did I do?"

"Nothing, Kate, nothing at all," he assured her. They rounded the corner and headed up the stairs to the third floor. The third floor landing had only a single set of double doors. Mr. Corntassel pushed them open and the two went inside.

The Principal's Office was in fact a large office suite with numerous side rooms for storage, student files, confiscated objects, and the like. Ms. Goates occupied an office to the left, though she was currently away. Mr. Towne's office was to the right. A secretary worked at a reception desk at the top of the stairs, but was currently running copies on an antique copy machine. (Of course, rather than turning the crank by hand, she had magicked it to crank itself.)

"Principal Towne is expecting us," Mr. Corntassel said. The receptionist waved them in.

Principal Towne was not alone. Two goblins had taken seats facing him across a large mahogany coffee table in his outer office. When Kate entered the room, Principal Towne rose to greet her. The goblins did not.

"Please sit down," Principal Towne said. He pushed a bowl of snacks closer to Kate's chair. "Peanut?"

"This is the one?" a goblin asked.

"This is Miss Burroughs," Principal Towne said.

"Then you may go," the goblin interrupted. "We will question her alone." Kate felt suddenly sick.

"Unacceptable!" Principal Towne said. "By wizarding law she is entitled to representation in any formal criminal investigation…"

"She is a witness, not a suspect!" the goblin protested.

"…and furthermore, Zardgrog," Principal Towne raised his voice, "Miss Burroughs is underage." He looked directly at Kate and said, "By rights she needn't tell you anything without a parent present. Anything at all."

"You forget, Towne, that this investigation is being conducted under goblin law, not wizard's law. Ugnarl and I represent the Security Division of Gringotts Wizarding Bank and are not subject to your law." The goblin Principal Towne called Zardgrog leaned forward in his chair. He pressed his long, spindly fingers together almost as if he were praying and glared in Kate's direction. Mr. Corntassel gently rested a hand on Kate's shoulder.

"And _you_ forget, Zardgrog, that I am _permitting_ you to conduct this investigation of yours unhindered. Despite the misgivings of my Vice Principal and my Head Librarian, and despite the inconvenience this has caused for several members of my faculty, not to mention the members of the student body, you have had a free hand—so far. Do not mistake my hospitality for acquiescence. And do not underestimate my resolve when it comes to guarding the well being of my students."

Principal Towne's gray eyes smoldered.

"Very well," Zardgrog muttered. At last noticing Mr. Corntassel he added, "And who are you?"

"I'm Magi Corntassel, Kate's head of house." Mr. Corntassel produced a quill and roll of parchment from inside his robe. "Pursuant to section 28 of the Wizarding Criminal Code I hereby present myself as Miss Burroughs's legal representative. My credentials are on file with the Wizengamot in Georgetown if you'd care to look them up. I hope you won't mind if I take a few notes."

Before Zardgrog could say anything Mr. Corntassel set the parchment down on the coffee table in front of them. The quill leaped upright and positioned itself at the upper left-hand corner of the page. Of its own accord, the quill noted the date, time, and location of the meeting and filled in information about the nature of the interview and the names of all who were present.

Once he was sure Kate was comfortable in her overstuffed leather chair Mr. Corntassel sat down at her right hand. Principal Towne also found a chair and situated it to Kate's left.

"Now," Mr. Corntassel said, "let's begin, shall we?"

The goblin called Zardgrog glowered. "Very well," he said. Turning to Kate he said, "Your name is…" (he referred to a notebook opened in front of him) "…Kathleen Malinda Burroughs?" Mr. Corntassel's magic quill danced across the page.

"Yes, sir." The knot in Kate's stomach was getting tighter.

"You are the only child of Henry and Caledonia Burroughs?"

"Yes, sir."

"Your father has become rather wealthy in the past fifteen years, has he not?"

"I don't think so, sir. No. I mean, we do okay, but it's not like we live in a mansion or anything. Mom and Dad work hard."

"Hmm," Zardgrog mused.

"And you attribute this 'doing okay' to hard work alone?"

How was Kate supposed to answer that? There was a trap in the question, Kate thought, but she wasn't sure where. "Well, what else could it be?"

"What else, indeed," Zardgrog said. He jotted something in his notepad and turned the page.

"Does your father maintain contact with a witch named Leonora Perdue?"

This was a surprise. Who was that? "I've never heard that name," Kate answered.

"You never heard that your father and Ms. Perdue were acquainted during his seventh year?"

"It's news to me," Kate said. And it was. She tried not to show it, but she wondered where this line of questioning was going.

"And I suppose then you've never heard of Ms. Perdue's connections with a certain Englishman named Nott?"

"No, sir?" Kate was confused. What was Zardgrog getting at?

"What do you know about the artifact known to wizards as the Cup of Kings?"

"Only what's in my schoolbooks," she answered truthfully.

"You are not aware of its powers?"

"No, sir."

"You are not aware that wizard historians attribute the fall of the Persian Empire to its disappearance in the fourth century BC?"

"Mr. Rainey hasn't gotten that far yet, sir. We're still on Egypt and Mesopotamia."

Zardgrog grumbled.

Kate had had enough. How dare they treat her this way? How dare they accuse her father? She was not going to put up with it.

Kate's mind flitted back three summers, to her room in Cauldron Bottom. It was the summer before she started at Malkin and she was getting frustrated in her attempt to answer the increasingly ridiculous questions on her S.Q.U.I.D. In a flash she knew what she would do.

"So you have no knowledge of its current whereabouts?"

"No, sir."

"And what about your father?"

Kate hesitated only for a second. With a twinkle in her eye she said, "I reckon he's home in Cauldron Bottom."

"I know perfectly well where your father is!" Zardgrog thundered. "I'm asking if he knows where the Cup of Kings is!"

"Easy, Zardgrog," Mr. Corntassel intervened. "There's no need for shouting."

The goblin settled himself. "Miss Burroughs," he said, his voice dripping with mock sincerity, "Would your father know the whereabouts of the Cup of Kings?"

"I don't know, sir," Kate said. "I don't think he was very good at History of Magic." She smiled at Principal Towne. "He was more of a 'Potions' kind of guy."

Principal Towne permitted the tiniest grin to cross his face for half a second.

Zardgrog furrowed his brow. "This is not a laughing matter, Miss Burroughs."

"I'm not laughing, sir." She smiled sweetly. Mr. Corntassel beamed with pride.

"Zardgrog," Principal Towne said. "I think this has gone on long enough. She's just a child."

"Just a few more questions, Towne." Zardgrog flipped through the pages of his notebook.

"And what about Miles Cowan. What has your father told you about him?"

"Didn't he go to school with my parents?"

"Indeed he did," Zardgrog said. "He has informed us that something happened shortly before their graduation. Is this news to you?"

Kate remembered the graduation picture she had found while cleaning out the basement, the man with his arm in a sling who kept glancing across the frame at Henry Burroughs and Callie Dunlap. Then with a start she remembered something else.

"Miss Burroughs, I asked you a question. Do you know about an incident involving Mr. Cowan, Ms. Perdue, and your father fifteen years ago?"

Kate pulled herself back into the present.

"Well," she said, once again looking for an opening. "I suppose they passed their final exams—otherwise they wouldn't have graduated. Is that the incident you had in mind?"

"No, Miss Burroughs, that is _not_ the incident I had in mind."

"Well, I'm sure there were plenty of other incidents, Mr. Zardgrog, sir," she said. "I expect before their exams there was loads of studying, and the last Quodpot game of the year," She counted the possibilities on her fingers. "…and overdue library books—my dad is always misplacing library books—and maybe a graduation party or two…"

"Miss Burroughs!" he said. He had dropped all pretense of cordiality. "I don't believe you understand what is going on here and how serious it is!"

"I think I do, sir." Kate was also through being polite. "You've brought charges against an innocent man based on little or no evidence. And since you can't find any real evidence, you're threatening a teenager—who wasn't even born when whatever was supposed to have happened, happened—to see if she lets something slip. 'Cause it's probably the only thing that will keep your case from blowing up in your faces for the second time this month. Does that about sum it up, _sir_, or have I missed anything?"

Zardgrog turned an impressive shade of purple. It took Mr. Corntassel's quill another minute to catch up.

"We're done here," Principal Towne stated. "Miss Burroughs, I'm sorry to have kept you from your classes." He nodded at Mr. Corntassel, who collected his quill and parchment and gestured for Kate to follow him from the room.

Walking down the stairs, Mr. Corntassel leaned into Kate and said, "Well done, Kate. You didn't need me after all."

"Sure I did," Kate protested. "I don't know what I'd have done if you and Mr. Towne weren't there to support me."

"I'm glad to have helped." He looked at his watch. "Your Potions class is already half over. You can head down to lunch. I'll explain to Madame Glapion about your absence."

"Thank you, Mr. Corntassel," Kate said. She skipped down the stairs to the first floor, but rather than turning into the Dining Hall, she charged out the front door and across the lawn toward the library.

She wasn't hungry at all. All she could think about was a woman with deep brown eyes, a beautiful smile, and the initials "L. P."


	13. Old Tabbs

By the end of August the goblins had more or less become an accepted feature on campus. Accepted, but not welcomed. They still poked their impressive noses around the library and the classroom buildings, but Principal Towne had expressly forbade them to have any more direct contact with the students. And, of course, rumors swirled about what—if anything—they had discovered. It seemed campus life was slowly returning to normal.

Although homework kept the first-years busy—and they were all very thankful for the breaks and study halls their schedules provided—it was also a fun time for making new friends and seeing new sights. Jessica sent her parents an owl every week (and wondered if they would ever get used to receiving wizard mail!). She told them all about her teachers and especially her new friends.

Jessica had even come to take it in stride when a ghost or two floated past them in the corridors. Most of them seemed to enjoy being around the students. The Spanish conquistador always saluted them with a deep, ostentatious bow—which revealed the feathered arrows sprouting from his back. He introduced himself to Jessica as "Gaspar Sanchez de León, _a su servicio_."

Chief Fish-Hawk, the grim Native American she first saw at her Sorting ceremony, rarely said anything to anyone. He was the Quickfang house ghost, but she got the impression that not even the Quickfangs were especially close to him.

Jennifer Brown had finally convinced Jessica to try Exploding Snap, and the two of them played a game or two after supper most every evening. Jessica actually liked the game, now that she had tried it.

Susan Jacobs tried out for the Proudfeather Quodpot team, but didn't make the cut. Her roommates consoled her by reminding her how rare it was for first-years to make the team and promising to cheer her on next year. Mostly, however, they lifted her spirits by throwing a surprise birthday party for her in their room. They had no idea when her birthday actually was, of course, but they figured the 28th of August must be _somebody's_ birthday, so they might as well celebrate.

The one thing Jessica could not bring herself to tell her parents about was Marcus Poole. The dark-haired Strongfoot boy continued to get on Jessica's nerves. At least, she realized, she wasn't his only target. He seemed to have something critical to say about almost everybody. Mark Trittenheim, the boy from Indiana who was hanging out with him on the bus, had gotten mad at him for insulting his favorite Quodpot team, the French Lick Falcons. In Potions one day he told somebody that Dorothy Ogden was only pretending to be so nice so people would do what she told them to. This got both Dorothy and her brother Thomas mad at him.

The Proudfeather first-years disliked him most, however, at 11:00 on Mondays and Thursdays. That was when they had Transfiguration with the Strongfoots and, as much as it pained them to admit it, Marcus Poole was probably the best in the class. His performance on the first day wasn't just beginner's luck. Marcus was almost always the first to get the hang of whatever Ms. Goates taught them, and—severe though she was—it was obvious she was impressed. In the second week of class she declared his apple-to-orange transfiguration to be "quite good" and in the third week she had everyone pay attention as he performed an "exemplary" Switching Spell.

What Jessica hated most was that Marcus seemed to have something against Muggle-born wizards. She soon worked out that there were three other Muggle-borns in her year. Mary Adams, in Fairgarland House, and two Quickfangs, Lisa Putnam and Richard Kam. Marcus never called any of them rude names (at least in her hearing) but most of the first-years had picked up on his dismissive, patronizing attitude. Whenever Jessica looked at him she could only think of what he had said about her on the bus: "Reminds me of another word that starts with an M, if you know what I mean."

The last day of August was the first day of flying lessons. As the first-years arrived for their General Magic class, Ms. Lector waved the Quickfangs and Fairgarlands in, but directed the Strongfoots and Proudfeathers to gather on the lawn, where nineteen broomsticks were waiting for them.

Their flying teacher, it turned out, was Mr. Reddit, one of the assistant librarians. He was a young wizard in his twenties Jessica had seen a time or two during Study Hall. When everyone had properly mounted their brooms, he got them to kick off in groups of three or four, hover above the ground for a minute or two, then touch down. Jessica was happy to find that riding a broom wasn't as scary as she was afraid it would be. Susan, of course, had ridden brooms all her life and didn't have any problems at all. But even the poorest flyers seemed to get the hang of it after two or three tries.

"All right," Mr. Reddit said. "I think we can take a spin around the campus. I'll start you off in the same groups you've been practicing in. I want you to fly toward the front gate, then turn right and follow the stone wall all the way around. Take your time; this isn't a race. And don't fly too high. Just try to stay even with the top of the wall. Once I've got everyone started I'll catch up with you."

With that, Mr. Reddit cleared them for take-off three or four students at a time. Jessica, Jennifer, and Alejandra González kicked off and sped into the air. Jessica's broom jerked and leaned to the left a time or two before she got the hang of it. By the time they reached the front gate, she was feeling fairly confident. She figured out how to speed up or slow down by either leaning down toward the handle or sitting up straight. Up, down, left, and right worked by guiding the handle in the desired direction. It was a little like working the joystick on a video game.

They sped over grassy fields way back behind the Guest House and Parkinson Hall, which was easy to spot because of the large greenhouses and open-air gardens. She saw the Quickfang and Strongfoot dormitories, which mirrored those of Proudfeather and Fairgarland, and soon saw the cluster of modest cabins where faculty members lived.

"Out of the way!" called Susan, who bolted past Jessica and the others, whooping and laughing. She and Blaise Greensmith wanted to go faster. In fact, they were racing each other around the wall.

Jessica gradually slipped to the back of her group as Jennifer and Alejandra, who had both ridden brooms before, kept speeding up away from her. Eventually she joined another clutch of three or four kids who preferred a slower pace. They watched in admiration as Susan and Blaise chased each other across the rolling hills on the backside of the campus. But when they veered off toward the lake, Mr. Reddit left his position behind Jessica to make them stay on course.

"Hey!" he shouted. "No showboating! Get back in formation!"

As soon as Mr. Reddit barreled toward the lake, however, Marcus Poole slowed down until he was even with Jessica and the other slower flyers.

"I might have known _you'd_ be taking up the rear," he smirked.

"Come on, Marcus, not now," Thomas Ogden complained.

"I just want y'all to understand how much fun flying is," he called. "So, Robinson, you ever played Quodpot? You ever even _seen_ anybody play Quodpot?"

Jessica looked straight ahead. By leaning forward, she gradually increased her speed. Marcus kept pace.

"It's really fun, but you've got to fly high and fast. Next year I'm trying out be a Harrier. Do you know what a Harrier does?" And with that, he rammed his left shoulder into Jessica. She spun completely around but managed to hold on to her broom.

Unfortunately, in trying to regain control, she shot another thirty feet into the air. Below her, she could hear Marcus laughing. She was so flustered and frightened she couldn't get her broom to cooperate. It jerked and bucked and spun her around. Every time she tried to correct herself, she over-compensated. She was almost in tears as she realized she was way too high, way too fast, and not entirely sure where she was!

"Jessica!" she heard Susan cry.

She tried to sit up straight, partly to slow down and partly to get her bearings. When she did, however, she slammed against the top of the wall. She felt the stones scrape against her bare legs as she slipped beyond the campus boundary line. Instinctively, she pulled up and soared out over the tops of the trees like a rocket, still spinning, jerking, and bucking.

At last, the top of a pine tree slowed her forward momentum and the mid-level branches of a sweetgum stopped it altogether. She tumbled head over heels until at last she crashed onto the mossy ground with a thud.

She didn't think anything was broken, but she was pretty scratched up, and her left leg was bleeding and hurt like fire. Her hands throbbed where she had used them to break her fall. As soon as her head cleared, her first thought was to strangle Marcus Poole.

She was lying on her back. She sat up and tried to collect her legs underneath her so she could stand.

Then she heard a low rumbling growl.

Jessica was suddenly perfectly still. She wasn't alone. There was something else nearby, hiding in the trees—something, she feared, that Principal Towne had warned them about on the night of the start-of-term banquet. Something that kills jackrabbits, bicorns…and eleven-year-olds?

Whatever it was, Jessica heard no footsteps, only deep, deliberate breaths.

High overhead she heard Mr. Reddit calling her name. She didn't dare answer.

It growled again.

Jessica bit her lip. Her whole body was beginning to shake.

Still sitting with her legs crossed in front of her, she peered into the woods. Something was moving in the trees. She saw something in the shadows not twenty feet away from her. It crouched low to the ground, as if ready to pounce.

It took a step toward her. The sunlight finally touched its face. Jessica couldn't help but let out a whimper.

It walked on two legs, although it looked more like a mountain lion than anything human. It was covered with tan-colored fur and sported vicious-looking claws where its hands and feet should have been.

It made a deep rumbling sound that seemed to reverberate up and down Jessica's spine. The gaze of its yellow eyes seemed to bore into her soul and fill her with terror. Jessica had been scared before, but never like this. It was as if the creature's eyes beamed pure fear into every cell of her body. She shut her eyes tight but couldn't stop quaking and whimpering.

"Hyah!" a man's voice shouted. Someone had come up behind Jessica.

There was a thud, like the sound of something hard striking flesh. The thing roared, and its roar was like some horrendous jungle cat. There was another thud and another shout.

The beast scampered off.

Jessica opened her eyes, got up on one knee and pivoted around to run in the opposite direction. Her body wouldn't cooperate, however. Even though the creature had run away, she was still nearly paralyzed with fear. She slipped and fell back to the ground on her belly.

She saw a pair of feet was directly in front of her. No—not _feet_, exactly. Her nose was no more than a foot away from a pair of large cloven hooves. Those hooves were attached to a pair of shaggy jet-black goat-like legs. And those legs were attached to a man's torso, muscular and as white as milk.

Mr. Tragus dropped the large rock he held in his hand.

"Where's your broom?" he asked. That was a good question. She glanced around until she spied it lying near the tree she had crashed into. It seemed to be in one piece, but she didn't look forward to trying to fly out of there.

Then she heard her name again. Mr. Reddit swooped down from the sky and landed ten feet away.

"Jessica! Are you all right?" Mr. Tragus and Mr. Reddit helped her to her feet, but her injured leg didn't want to cooperate.

"I-I'll be okay," she said, trembling. She said it more out of pride than any deep assurance that she would ever be okay again.

"Tragus, I have to get back to the rest of the class. Can you get Miss Robinson to the infirmary?"

The satyr nodded. Mr. Reddit retrieved Jessica's broom. Mr. Tragus slung Jessica over his broad shoulder as if she were a sack of feathers.

"Don't you worry, Missy. I'll get you back to school."

"Tragus, did you see—?"

"Yep," the satyr said, grim-faced. "Old Tabbs, all right. Had to be."

There was a silence.

"Well?"

"Well, it weren't no glawackus, that's for sure."


	14. Chapter Fourteen

"A wampus cat? You're joking!" Felicia cried.

Kate, Will, and Felicia huddled around the Proudfeather table at lunch.

"I heard it with my own ears," Kate whispered. By noon the whole school had heard about Jessica's accident and her encounter with Old Tabbs.

"I saw Mr. Tragus carry her up to the infirmary. He nearly ran over a couple of goblins who were loitering around the library! Nurse Choake wouldn't let me go in, though. She called for Nurse Cotton to bring her some chocolate on the double—'for the panic,' she said. Then Mr. Tragus ran back to talk to Miss Vivian—I mean Ms. Hoskins. I just had to know what had happened, so I followed him. They talked in her office. They…I don't think they knew I was listening at the door." Kate blushed.

"Anyway, Mr. Tragus said that's what it was. He said Jessica probably woke it up when she crashed—they hunt at night, I guess. I figure if anybody around here knows what a wampus cat looks like, it'd be him or Ms. Hoskins."

"Or Mr. Malleus," Will added. "We talked about wampus cats our first day, remember?"

"Guess I wasn't paying attention," Kate confessed. Kate knew her grades were slipping in all her classes. It was almost impossible for her to concentrate on anything but her dad and his goblin troubles. Her parents sent her at least an owl a week, but they never said anything more than "Everything is all right" or "Say hello to your cousins." She didn't think they were purposely keeping her in the dark; they probably suspected the goblins had ways of reading their mail. But it was infuriating to be kept ignorant of what was going on.

"I hope she's okay," Felicia said.

"I heard she mostly got cuts and bruises. Mrs. Choake'll take care of her."

Even with this distressing news, Kate had other things on her mind. She could barely contain herself during History of Magic. Mr. Rainey drilled them on the contributions of important Mesopotamian witches and wizards until it was all a jumble in Kate's frazzled mind.

When the bell rang, she gathered up her things.

"Kate," Mr. Rainey said.

"Yes, sir?" She hoisted her book bag onto her shoulder and approached her teacher.

"Kate, I know you've been distracted lately," he said. A couple of Fairgarland boys were talking about Quodpot practice in the back of the room. Will, Felicia, and Dana waited for Kate at the doorway. Beyond them Zardgrog's assistant, Ugnarl, peered into the classroom.

Mr. Rainey cleared his throat. "I just want you to know," he said in a voice a bit louder than necessary, "that I expect the same quality of work out of you as I always have before. No excuses."

Kate was flabbergasted. "I'm trying, Mr. Rainey, really. It's just—"

The Fairgarland boys looked up and suddenly remembered that they were due somewhere else. Will and Felicia ducked out into the hallway. Only Dana remained by the door.

"Now, Kate, you know what I expect from my students. It looks to me like you're going to need some remedial work if you hope to maintain your good grades in my class." He reached inside his robes for a folded slip of parchment. "Here's something to make up for the substandard work I've been seeing. I'd get to work on this right away if I were you."

He handed Kate the parchment and winked.

Kate looked down at the paper and slowly unfolded it. It read,

_**Dear Ms. Lector,**_

_**I hereby grant Kate Burroughs access to the restricted section of the library in order to study chapter 14 of Magical Mayhem through the Millennia by Milton McCurry. **_

_**Yours, **_

_**Moses Rainey**_

Kate grinned. Mr. Rainey grinned, too, when at last she looked him in the eye.

"Don't let the goblins get you down," Mr. Rainey whispered. Then aloud he said, "Don't you have someplace to go?"

Kate couldn't have flown to the library any faster if she were on her broom. She didn't even claim a seat at one of the study tables. Instead, she practically sprinted to Ms. Lector's desk with her note.

Ms. Lector eyed the parchment suspiciously. "Well, this is a bit…advanced," she commented.

"It's for a report," Kate lied. She hoped the librarian wouldn't ask her the topic; she didn't have a clue what she would say.

Fortunately, Ms. Lector only answered, "Uh-_huh_," and led Kate upstairs to the third floor. At the back of the building was an area set off behind an iron grate. Uncounted photos of past graduating classes decorated just about every square inch of it. The librarian approached a padlocked iron door, performed a tricky bit of wordless magic, and ushered Kate inside.

The two weaved in an out of rows of musty old books until Ms. Lector stopped abruptly about halfway down one row. Kate nearly tripped over her. Ms. Lector waved her wand and a hefty leather-bound book floated off the shelf and into her waiting arm.

Without a word, she turned around, maneuvered past Kate, and headed back toward the middle of the restricted section. There she set the book down at a small wooden table. She opened the book to chapter 14 and gestured for Kate to be seated.

"Forty-five minutes," she said.

"Yes, ma'am," Kate answered.

"I'll be sending Mr. Reddit up to keep an eye on you." The librarian marched back toward the door and slammed it shut behind her.

Kate didn't waste any time. She sat down at the desk and began to read. The chapter dealt with the art of espionage. In particular, it recorded various magical spells and devices that wizards had used in the past to stay a step ahead of their enemies.

Kate skimmed over the first part of the chapter, which seemed to have more to do with spells. She slowed down when the topic turned to magical artifacts: sneakoscopes, foe-glasses, probity probes, etc. She stopped cold when she came to the heading on page 231: "The Cup of Jamshid."

_** The Cup of Jamshid, also called the Cup of Kings, is an artifact of remarkable power. Thought to have been originally created by goblins prior to the 10th century BC, this cup was long the possession of Persia's ancient kings.**_

_** The cup is said to have been capable of producing the Elixir of Life—a claim that is hotly debated since all of its past possessors have, in fact, died. Regardless of this claim, its most important attribute was unquestionably in the realm of spy-craft. The Cup of Jamshid, in fact, gave its possessor the greatest weapon imaginable: knowledge.**_

_** According to eyewitness accounts, including the renowned Book of Arcane Secrets by Apharxat of Persepolis, possessors of the cup could use it to observe "all the seven heavens of the universe." As an aid to Divination, the cup far surpassed any ordinary crystal ball.**_

_** Of course, it wasn't long before the kings of Persia realized they could also use the cup to observe more earthly matters. It is said that by gazing into the cup one could see anything that was happening anywhere in the world. Imagine! To know what one's enemies were planning, where they were, what they were doing. It is no wonder this artifact has been long sought by wizards with a thirst for power. **_

Kate gasped. From the other side of the grate, Mr. Reddit stopped what he was doing to make sure she was all right.

Was that why the goblins were so interested in her dad's business success? Did they think he was spying on his competitors?

Kate felt her heart racing. What had Mr. Lipinsky said? Her dad was always one step ahead of the competition. And she herself had told Jessica how he stocked up on Osprey 360's at just the right time.

_No_, she told herself, _it's just a coincidence_.

She turned the page and continued to read.

_** The whereabouts of the cup are unknown, having disappeared by the late fourth-century BC. Many believe, however, that it eventually made its way to Greece and then perhaps to Rome. **_

There was then a lengthy section describing the cup's properties in technical detail. Kate couldn't follow half of it, but she pulled out a roll of parchment and took notes on it as best she could.

_** According to goblin historians, the cup resurfaced in Albania in the early 1900s. According to goblin law and custom, any goblin-wrought artifact remains the property of the goblin who made it, and may only be "rented" to others for a limited time. Upon the death of the possessor, such artifacts are expected to be returned to their creator, or to his or her heirs.**_

_** This fundamental disagreement over property rights has long been a bone of contention between goblins and the wizarding community, as is well known. **_

_So that's why the goblins are so eager to get this thing_, Kate thought.

_** In the 1970s, for example, the goblin community of Great Britain accused noted antiquities dealer Hermes Vasilikos of having acquired the Cup of Jamshid from an Albanian wizard who had failed to recognize its true nature. Nothing came of these charges, and the cup's current whereabouts are hotly disputed.**_

Something clicked in Kate's mind. She quickly dug out her History of Magic textbook and flipped to one of the final chapters, hoping to find something about the First Wizarding War. She was right: the 1970s was when Lord Voldemort was rising in power the first time. Her parents were preschoolers, or maybe not even born yet. Was Voldemort aware of the Cup of Kings even then? Who knows? But Kate bet he would have loved to find a way to spy on his enemies.

_What if the goblins were on to something?_ she thought. What if this Vasilikos person really did have the cup, but he didn't like the attention he was getting. He might have tried to get it out of England—especially once the rumors started flying years later that Voldemort had come back.

Did he send the cup to America? If he did, would Voldemort's followers come looking for it? And how in the world did Kate's dad figure into all this?

Kate frantically scribbled pages and pages of notes in the little time she had left. Then, at 2:50, Mr. Reddit opened the door to the restricted section.

"Time to go," he announced.

Kate packed up her things.

* * *

><p>Jessica was out of the infirmary by that afternoon. The chocolate Mrs. Choake had given her had calmed her nerves. Her leg was a little sore, but Mrs. Choake had told her that was to be expected. She decided she had earned a little time off, so instead of trying to catch up on her school work, she headed straight to the Proudfeather dormitory hoping to take a little nap or at least relax for a few hours before supper.<p>

Of course, everyone wanted to hear her story firsthand. She tried to oblige them but, to be honest, it had all happened so quickly she wasn't sure she remembered anything accurately.

As the only Malkin student in fifteen years to have actually seen Old Tabbs face to face ("and lived to tell about it," some insisted on adding), Jessica became an instant celebrity. She even made the front page of the following Monday's edition of _The Caterwaul_. (Claudius Poole had come around to the infirmary trying to get an interview. Nurse Choake shooed him away, for which Jessica was quite grateful.) She was mortified that everybody was talking about her, but part of her was happy that at least Kate's troubles were no longer the topic of conversation.

At least, she was until Monday at lunch.

Kate had been as distracted as ever, but there was something different about her attitude. She had a little more fire in her eyes, as if she had a reason to hope that she didn't have before.

Jessica was getting used to the fact that Kate was closer to her third-year friends. She was actually a little mad at herself for thinking Kate would drop everything to play "big sister" whenever Jessica wanted to hang out with her.

Kate's friends had all rallied around her. But Jessica was not terribly pleased that one of those friends was turning out to be Claudius Poole.

Jessica wasn't sure Kate and Claudius were great friends before school began, but it was getting pretty obvious that Claudius wanted to be closer! He somehow found ways to arrive at the Dining Hall for supper the same time Kate did. He asked to borrow her Muggle Studies or Ancient Runes notes, although Jessica was sure he could have gotten the same notes from any of his Strongfoot friends.

The worst part was that Kate didn't seem to realize what Claudius was doing. Jessica knew what boys were like when they were sweet on a girl. After all, she had watched her big brothers in action for years! She knew exactly how dopey they acted, how nervous they got, how they manufactured any lame excuse to be close to the girl they we're crushing on. Kate was completely clueless. And what's more, she actually seemed to enjoy the attention! But as far as Jessica was concerned, as big a troll as Marcus Poole was, his brother wasn't likely to be much better.

At least Jessica was pleased to hear that Marcus had gotten a really rough detention for his behavior at their first flying lesson. Mr. Reddit had made him polish and trim the twigs on the school brooms—all thirty of them—and without using magic. In Transfiguration class on Monday morning he was still rubbing and stretching his arms as if they were sore, and there were traces of wood polish underneath his fingernails. Furthermore, Susan, Jennifer, and Aisha had decided to keep close to Jessica during all their future flying lessons. "If Marcus thinks he's such a good Harrier, then I guess we three can be Blockers," she said. Sure enough, if Marcus ever came close to Jessica after that, one of her friends would fly between them, and usually managed to "accidentally" give Marcus a gentle—or not so gentle—bump.

As Marcus took his seat in the Transfiguration classroom he shot Jessica a withering glance. Jessica did the same to him.

By now, the first-years knew exactly what to expect. At precisely 11:00 Vice Principal Goates entered the room and began lecturing on the topic of the day. Today they were beginning a new unit on animate-to-inanimate transfiguration: turning living creatures into inert matter.

As usual, she filled two or three whiteboards with complex magical equations to demonstrate the principles behind the magic, and then let the students practice for the second half of the class period.

Today's practical exercise was turning dormice into doorstops. She called on several students to bring nineteen caged dormice from the storage room into the classroom. Once they had their dormice, the students pulled them from their cages and set them on their desks—and hoped they didn't scurry away!

After about ten minutes, no one had yet succeeded in performing the exercise. Jessica concentrated so hard her face turned red. Thomas Ogden started to hyperventilate. Even Marcus Poole didn't seem as cocky as he often did.

Ten minutes later, the entire class had struck out. Vice Principal Goates instructed them to put away their dormice.

"Transfiguration," she said, "is one of the most difficult branches of magical study. It requires superior mental discipline. Some of you have distinguished yourselves in that area." Marcus leaned back in his chair, smiling. "But not today!" Marcus gulped and sat back straight up in his chair.

"I would remind you that Transfiguration is a core subject at Malkin Academy. It is required at every stage of your magical education. Establish good habits today and you will reap the benefits for years to come. Slough off today, and the results may one day be catastrophic.

"Some of you have made adequate progress in this class so far, but many of you are falling far short of my expectations. If you need greater incentive than you should already have, then it remains for me to provide it. Therefore," she said, "today I am announcing a competition—a Transfiguration tournament, if you will. It will take place on the seventh of November and will include first-years from all four houses. The prize will be twenty points to the winner's house."

There was a murmur. Nobody had ever heard of Ms. Goates awarding more than five points at a time for anything.

"The tournament will test you on your mastery of everything in your textbook up to and including chapter fourteen. I suggest you give these chapters your utmost attention in the coming weeks. You are dismissed."

As she pronounced the final syllable, the bell rang.

Jessica, Aisha, Jennifer, and Susan could talk about nothing else all the way down to the Dining Hall.

"A Transfiguration tournament!" Jennifer moaned. "Why couldn't it be Herbology? At least there I stand a chance of winning."

"Oh, we'll be fine," Jessica said. "We can help each other study. We do that anyway, don't we? I'd say we all have a pretty good chance."

"That's easy for you to say," Jennifer said. "You're great at Transfiguration. One of the best!"

"I'm not _that_ good," she blushed. They entered the Dining Hall and found seats at the Proudfeather table. Jessica was pleased to see pepperoni pizza was on the day's menu.

"Don't sell yourself short, Jess," Aisha said. "You're one of the best in the class. You can do just about any job Goates gives us." Jessica had learned that "job" and "trick" were Aisha's slang words for a spell.

"Right," said Susan. "And I bet you win the twenty points for Proudfeather, too."

Jessica gritted her teeth. "I'd love to do that…and for one reason."

"Does this reason have dark bushy hair and a stupid-looking smirk?" Aisha asked. The other girls giggled. But it was true: Jessica didn't care about the house points nearly as much as she relished the idea of putting Marcus Poole in his place.

"We'll practice every day," Susan said. "And my cousin Jeremy is a whiz at Transfiguration. Maybe he'd be willing to help us." She gritted her teeth. "That patch-robe won't know what hit him!"

Jennifer and Aisha doubled over in laughter.

"That _what_?"

"Patch-robe," Jennifer explained as she reached for a chicken tender. "That's what my dad calls them, too. You know, like those old wizarding families who don't have any money but they think they're special 'cause their blood is 'pure.' They walk around with their noses in the air and patches on their robes. But everybody knows they're a joke."

"Everybody but themselves," Aisha added.

"Patch-robe," Jessica let the word echo in her ears. "Somehow, it fits."


	15. The Charms Teacher

Kate had a brainstorm during lunch on Monday. She realized there was a source of information she had completely overlooked—and it was likely the goblins did, too. But there was nothing she could do until classes were over.

Her body showed up for both Defense Against the Dark Arts and Transfiguration, but her mind was somewhere else. Vice Principal Goates even docked her five house points when she somehow transfigured her teacup into a toadstool when it was supposed to become a turtle.

As soon as the bell rang she ducked out of the Transfiguration classroom and headed to the other end of the second floor, to a smallish room across from Mr. Rainey's office. The sign on the door said, "The Caterwaul – Jeremy Loew, Managing Editor."

Kate tried the door. She wasn't sure if it would be better if someone were there or not. As it turned out, however, the door was unlocked. She entered the room slowly and quietly.

A boy with bushy black hair was hunched over a copy machine with his back to the door. He had his Charms textbook open on his lap. He studied it intently as he poured a gleaming silver liquid—or was it smoke?—into a copper funnel on the side of the machine. He gave it a crank and then snatched up the single piece of parchment that passed through the machine and fell into the tray on the other side.

"Um, hi Claudius," she said softly.

"W-what? Oh," Claudius Poole whipped around in his chair. His eyes nearly popped out of his head and his face grew the slightest bit pink. "Hi, Kate."

"What are you doing?" she asked.

"I'm…uh…I'm trying to fix the Mindmuse Charm on this copy machine. We don't use it very often, so it gets a little rusty. See?" He passed her the parchment, which contained an animated line drawing she immediately recognized.

"This is Ms. Svenson-Benson! Last Tuesday, when she was talking about bind runes!"

"Right. You push the right button, put the memory in here," he indicated the funnel, "and the Mindmuse Charm brings it to life on a piece of parchment. I figured it might help me review for tests and stuff."

"Very impressive!" Kate said.

"But it isn't working right. See?" Indeed, Ms. Svenson-Benson seemed to be leaning too far to the left, and her head was slowly shrinking away to nothingness. Even worse, the runes she had drawn on the board were twisting into odd shapes that looked nothing like they were supposed to."

"Oh, I see the problem."

"So, Kate," Claudius said, "C-can I help you with something?"

"Actually yes, thanks," Kate said. "And thanks for what you wrote about my dad the other week. It meant a lot."

"S-sure." Claudius tried to suppress a grin.

Kate decided there was no point beating around the bush. "Claudius, could you help me find something in old _Caterwauls_? I'm trying to find out about a former student."

"Well, yeah!" Claudius's voice cracked. "That's easy. How far back?"

"About fifteen or sixteen years, I think."

Claudius sprang from his chair and sprinted toward a storage room at the back of the _Caterwaul_ office. Kate followed him into a cramped space littered with boxes of parchment, quills, inkwells, and other supplies. The whole back wall was lined with shelves. The shelves were filled with black volumes, all identical except for the silver writing on the spines. Each one had a different volume number and date imprinted on it.

"Here, try this one," he said at last as he pulled a volume from the shelf. According to the spine, this was the volume from Kate's parents' seventh year at Malkin.

"Who are you looking for? There's an index in the back."

"Really? Great!" Kate flipped to the back and scanned the pages until she came to "Perdue, Leonora." It looked like she was mentioned in several articles. Kate noted the issue and page number of the first reference, which sent her to the very beginning of the volume.

"Here it is," she said to herself. "Issue 1: August 21…page 2…" As soon as she turned the page Kate knew she had found it. In the middle of the page was a photo of the same beautiful young woman she saw in her dad's old school things. She smiled for the camera standing beside an old, bearded wizard with his arm around her shoulder. Kate stood in the storage room and read:

_**MALKIN WELCOMES ASSISTANT CHARMS TEACHER  
>By Ben Fitcher<strong>_

_**Malkin Academy students are in for a treat this year as we welcome a new assistant Charms teacher, Ms. Leonora Perdue. Ms. Perdue, a graduate of the Ratleff Hall School of Sorcery, will work with longtime Charms teacher Donovan Sparks throughout the academic year. **_

"She wasn't a student at all!" Kate gasped. "She was a teacher!" Claudius read over her shoulder.

_** "I was very impressed by Leonora's résumé and the stellar recommendations she has been given," Mr. Sparks says. "I'm delighted such a sharp young lady has decided to pursue a career in magical education, and honored that Malkin Academy will be part of her further training. After all, I'll be retiring in another few years. With any luck, we'll be able to convince her to stay."**_

Kate returned to the index to see what else it said about Ms. Leonora Perdue. There were a couple of notices about the Charms Club that mentioned her name, but nothing else of importance until Issue 30: April 8.

_**CHARMS TEACHER MISSING  
>By Sarah Stockworth<strong>_

_**The Malkin campus was locked down for six hours last Tuesday as Aurors investigated the disappearance of Ms. Leonora Perdue. The assistant Charms teacher didn't show up for an 8:00 meeting with her supervisor, Mr. Sparks. By 9:00, Aurors stationed in nearby Malkinville had arrived to conduct a thorough search of the buildings and grounds while students were confined to their dormitories.**_

_** Since the mysterious January 29th attack on seventh-year student Miles Cowan, security has been especially tight. **_

_** Mr. Jacob Malleus, Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher and Head of Campus Security, refused to comment, citing the sensitivity of the ongoing investigation. Mr. Malleus led the investigation of the Cowan attack, of which fellow seventh-year Henry Burroughs was originally suspected.**_

_** It is unknown at this time whether the two incidents are related. Students speaking on condition of anonymity have revealed that Burroughs has recently been seen in Ms. Perdue's company, and that both of them met with unidentified strangers in a Malkinville tavern last weekend.**_

"Oh. My," Kate breathed.

_** For their part, the Aurors seem satisfied that Burroughs was not involved in Ms. Perdue's disappearance. "Obviously, we can't rule anything out until we've finished gathering evidence," says Auror Louis Glapion, "but Jacob Malleus knows what he's doing. He was one of the best Aurors in the Division, and if he's standing up for this Burroughs kid, that's good enough for me."**_

_** Principal Towne's lock-down order was lifted at 3:00 Friday afternoon. As of press time Sunday evening, Aurors continue to patrol the campus in the interests of student, faculty, and staff security.**_

_** This is the second member of the Malkin community to disappear this term. The first, recently hired groundskeeper John Lake, has not been seen since the 29th of January. **_

Kate didn't see how this could be good news. The goblins knew about Leonora Perdue. Did they know she went missing—and soon after meeting with her dad? They had to, she realized. They had already interviewed Miles Cowan. Kate began putting the pieces together in her mind.

"So, Miles Cowan was attacked…and John Lake vanished the same night. At first they thought my dad did it. And then Dad, this Perdue woman, and—what did it say?—'unidentified strangers' were meeting in Malkinville. But less than a week later, Ms. Perdue was gone, too…and people were wondering if Dad had anything to do with it."

"This sounds serious, Kate," Claudius whispered.

"Yeah. And I bet I know what they were talking about at that meeting."

"You do?"

"I'd bet anything it had to do with the…." She stopped herself. The Cup of Kings wasn't directly mentioned in the _Wizarding World Today_ article. Kate figured the fewer people who knew about it, the better.

"Is this about that artifact the goblins think your dad stole?"

Kate cursed under her breath. She realized the article didn't mention the cup by name, but it _did_ say the goblins were trying to get back some of their property. Now Kate knew there were two or possibly three additional crimes the goblins might be trying to pin on her father: the attack on Miles Cowan and the disappearances of John Lake and Leonora Perdue—and it wouldn't matter to them if Mr. Malleus and every Auror east of the Mississippi declared him innocent.

"I think so," Kate conceded. "Oh, Claudius, there's got to be a way to prove to the goblins my dad was innocent!" She flipped through the bound volume at random, hoping something would jump out at her. Nothing did.

"You really care about your dad, don't you?"

"Of course I do."

"My dad left us when I was only seven," Claudius said. "I haven't seen him since. He and Mom were always fighting. I-I don't think he was a very nice person."

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. My brother has taken it a lot harder than I have. Just…I hope everything works out. It's rough not having a dad around."

Kate bit her lip and wiped a single tear from her eye. She had an inspiration. "Claudius, how could we find out if they ever found this Perdue woman?"

"I guess I could check the indexes for all the later volumes. And maybe you could check the _Wizarding World Today_ yearly indexes. They're all there in the library."

"Really?" Kate smiled. "Oh, Claudius, I don't know what to say. This is great!"

Claudius blushed. "Anything for you, Kate," he mumbled.

Kate didn't seem to hear him. "Leonora Perdue knows the truth about my dad," she said. "And I'm going to find her." She handed back the _Caterwaul_ volume and stepped out of the storage room.

"I need to get going, Claudius," Kate said. "Good luck with your copy machine."

"Thanks," Claudius answered as he held the door open for her. "Good luck with…well…you know."

Kate reached out her hand to his. "You've been really super. Thanks for everything." Claudius turned a new shade of pink. Kate smiled and walked out into the hallway—and straight into Jessica Robinson.

Jessica and Susan were standing outside the Caterwaul office. Jessica gave Kate a look of cold fury that took Kate completely by surprise.

"Jessica, what are you doing here so late in the afternoon?"

"Susan's looking for her cousin Jeremy," she said. "I don't suppose he's here, is he?" Her voice was accusatory.

"Jeremy doesn't usually come in on Mondays," Claudius said. Jessica made a point of not looking at him. There was an awkward silence.

"Well, we'll be going then," Susan said. "Come on, Jess."

Jessica stomped back down the hallway with Susan right behind, glancing back in puzzlement at Kate and Claudius.

* * *

><p>By Friday Kate was convinced that Leonora Perdue was still missing. Claudius hadn't found anything more about her in back issues of <em>The Caterwaul<em>, and Kate had no better luck with _Wizarding World Today_.

"It's like she's vanished off the face of the earth!" she sighed to her friends as they finished their supper.

"Nobody just vanishes," Dana said. "Maybe she changed her name, or left the country."

"Maybe she's dead," Will said. Kate and Dana looked horrified. "Well, you can't say the idea never crossed your minds, can you? A girl goes missing. Even a bunch of Aurors can't find any sign of her. And this was right after she's seen in town with a bunch of shady characters"

"My father is not a shady character!" Kate exploded.

"Settle down, Kate," Dana said, "you know that's not what he meant."

"Right," Will said. "Kate, I'd never say anything against your dad. But…well, you've got to admit, he might have been one of the last people to see this Perdue lady alive."

In a flash Kate's wand was in her hand. "One more word, Will, just one more word…"

"Is there a problem?" Mr. Malleus was suddenly standing behind Will, looking across the table at Kate and Dana.

"No, Mr. Malleus," Kate muttered.

"Good." And with that, Mr. Malleus marched away.

Kate followed him with her eyes as he left the Dining Hall.

"Kate?" Dana said. "Over here, Kate."

"What? Oh, sorry. I was just thinking…"

"Look out," Will said, "that usually means trouble!"

"I'll bet Mr. Malleus knows something. He used to be an Auror, you know. That's why Principal Towne hired him. And he was the one who investigated the attack on Miles Cowan."

Kate finished her strawberry shortcake and got up from the table. She, Will, and Dana left the Dining Hall.

"You're probably right," Will said as they stopped in front of the Proudfeather dormitory to say good night to Dana. "But I doubt he'd tell you anything if he hasn't already."

"No, you're right," Kate said. "Still…" An idea was forming in Kate's mind. "I'll bet he kept notes. Private notes, something the goblins wouldn't know about."

"You're crazy!" Will cried. "What do you want to do, break into Malleus's office? You _know_ how that's gonna turn out!"

"I know, I know," Kate mused. "But still…"


	16. Flights and Fights

Despite Susan's best efforts, Jeremy Loew refused to help the first-year Proudfeather girls work on their Transfiguration skills. Being a Strongfoot, he didn't want to give the Proudfeathers an unfair advantage—especially since Ms. Goates had already penalized Marcus Poole fifty points for ramming into Jessica during their first flying lesson and nearly getting her killed. Left to their own devices, the girls spent as much time as possible reviewing what they learned in class and even reading ahead to practice things Ms. Goates hadn't yet covered.

September brought new distractions to Jessica and her friends. First, as the weather finally began to cool off, everyone preferred being outside to being cooped up in their dormitories. The sun still didn't set until after 7:00, which meant plenty of time for walks or broomstick races on the grounds, reading under the trees, or even a relaxing swim in the lake.

Second, Quodpot practice had gotten underway. Most afternoons and evenings one or another of the house teams reserved the Quodpot field for practices. Susan insisted that Jessica be properly introduced to "the greatest sport in the world," and so on Monday evening after supper Susan, Jennifer, and Aisha dragged Jessica off to watch the Proudfeathers practice.

"I heard Proudfeather almost always has a good team," Susan beamed. "Quickfang has won the Quodpot Trophy four years running, but anything can happen in the new season. Oh, look! Felicia Hyatt made the team. I heard she was trying out. She's friends with Kate Burroughs, isn't she?"

Jessica didn't answer. The less she thought about Kate, the better.

Furthermore, Jessica was not at all sure she would enjoy a sport where, she had learned, the ball _explodes_! But Susan was an avid fan who wouldn't take no for an answer. So the four of them sat alone in the bleachers as the members of the Proudfeather Quodpot team took the field. Their practice uniforms consisted of simple gray robes with black stripes on the shoulders. They also wore black leather helmets, gauntlets, and tunics that glistened in the fading sunlight as if they were made of metallic scales.

"What are they wearing?" Jessica asked.

"Dragon-skin armor," Susan explained. "It protects them when the Quod explodes. But tonight it's just to get used to the weight. They don't use live Quods during practice. It would be too expensive."

The team kicked off and soared into the air. After what Jessica took to be warm-up drills for speed and agility, one of the players landed at mid-field, where a red leather ball (about the size of a basketball, Jessica thought) was waiting. He blew a whistle, then heaved the ball high into the air, where another player batted it backwards with the palm of his hand to a waiting teammate.

On the other side of the field were five additional players. Though Jessica recognized them as older Proudfeathers, they were apparently there to help with practice by representing the opposing team.

"There are eleven players on a team," Susan explained. "The one that tipped the Quod—that's the ball—is the Center. His job is to get the Quod for his team whenever a new one is put in play. The players he tips it to are the Forwards. There are four Forwards. Their job is to score points by tossing the Quod into the cauldron the opponents are guarding. The cauldron contains a potion that keeps the Quod from exploding. Each Quod in means one point. But they've got to be quick, because if the Quod explodes while they're touching it, they have to leave the game. The game is over when there's nobody left on one side."

Despite herself, Jessica was fascinated by the obvious skill of the players as they zipped overhead.

"Who are the other players?" she asked.

"You see how Felicia is flying ahead of the Forward? She's a Harrier. There are three Harriers. They run interference for the Forwards and try to disrupt the other team's defense. They're usually the fastest and lightest players."

Suddenly an air horn sounded and the girls' attention turned to a second-year boy they hadn't noticed before. He sat on the sidelines with a stopwatch in one hand and an air horn in the other.

The Forward who was holding the Quod when the air horn went off descended to the ground, removing himself from play. As his teammate did before, he stood at mid-field and heaved the Quod upward. The Center tipped it backwards into the waiting hands of a different Forward, who sped down the field flanked by two Harriers.

"The last three players are the Blockers. They're usually the biggest and slowest. They're called Blockers because their job is to stop the other team from getting a clear shot."

The Center huddled the team to discuss a play he wanted them to practice. Then the disqualified Forward heaved another Quod into play. The remaining Harriers buzzed the reserve Blockers as the Forwards circled around, passing the Quod back and forth with amazing speed. The air horn sounded again and another Forward removed himself from play.

"How long does it take the Quod to explode?" Jessica asked.

"You never know," Susan said. "Maybe thirty seconds, maybe three or four minutes. That's why you want to keep passing it around. Quodpot is the fastest game there is. It beats Quidditch by a mile as far as I'm concerned!"

Jessica was working too hard keeping Quodpot straight to ask about Quidditch, but there was no disputing that the Proudfeather Quodpot team was fast as lightning on their brooms. By the time practice was over, Jessica had a new appreciation for flying. In fact, for the first time ever, she actually felt in the mood for a little flight around the campus—but this time with no one watching!

As her friends headed back to the dormitory, Jessica excused herself ("I'd just like to be alone for a while," she told them). She then strolled across the back lawn to the broom shed. She signed out one of the old school brooms, mounted it just like Mr. Reddit had taught her, and kicked off. Soon she was ten feet in the air and zipping toward the lake. She wasn't nearly as fast as the Quodpot players, she realized, but she was moving faster than she had ever dared before.

She circled the lake a time or two, then whizzed along the wall surrounding the campus. When she passed the general area where Marcus had knocked her into the woods, she slowed down just a little but she didn't stop or turn around. She thought of this as her private victory over his bullying.

It took Jessica about twenty minutes to make a complete circuit of the campus. The sun was setting in the west as she came in for a landing near the broom shed. She grasped the broom confidently by the handle and strode to the door. When she opened the door, however, she found herself face to face with Marcus Poole.

Marcus was leaving as Jessica was coming in, having just signed in the broom he had been flying. "I might have known you'd show up eventually," he said, gesturing to the sign-out sheet on the wall by the door. "You cost Strongfoot fifty house points, _Jessie_. I'm never going to forget that."

"Good. Then maybe you won't forget that it was your own stupidity that did it!"

Suddenly Marcus Poole's wand was in his hand, pointed at Jessica's face. Jessica contemplated reaching for her wand, but thought better of it. Instead, she told him, "Just try something, Poole. I dare you. You'll be expelled before you know what hit you."

Jessica could almost see the wheels turning in Marcus's brain. At last, however, he decided taking out his frustration on a wandless girl wasn't worth what would likely happen to him if he were found out. "Why don't you just go splinch yourself?" he spat.

Jessica didn't know what that meant, but it sounded awfully rude. She signed in her broom and tried to avoid making further eye contact.

Marcus stormed from the broom shed. As soon as he left, however, Jessica crumpled to the floor. Why did Marcus have to act that way? Why wasn't Malkin Academy turning out the way she had imagined so long ago in her cozy bedroom in Edmundville? An hour ago she was soaring—literally! Now she wondered for the thousandth time if she would ever feel at home in the wizarding world. Her world was perfect just the way it was before she had ever heard of Malkin Academy or wizards or magic. She should have gone to middle school back in Edmundville with her brother Hunter. She should have tried out for the soccer team or joined the art club and lived a quiet, boring, Muggle life.

She had herself a good, long cry. When she had pulled herself together, she extinguished the lantern on the wall and the broom shed was plunged into perfect darkness.

Opening the door, however, she was suddenly bathed in silvery light. Floating inches above the ground was a stern Indian chief, semi-transparent, with a hideous gash across his chest.

Chief Fish-Hawk, the Quickfang house ghost, was wandering the grounds.

"Oh!" Jessica gasped. "I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to get in your way."

Chief Fish-Hawk nodded silently, arms crossed. Jessica edged past him.

"You're not in my way, Little Warrior," the ghost said.

"W-what did you call me?" Jessica was fascinated by everything about Chief Fish-Hawk. Even if his feet had touched the ground, he would have been well over six feet tall. His clothing and mannerisms were unlike anything she had seen before, and she couldn't help staring at those terrible claw marks!

"Even we ghosts have heard about you and the _ewah_. Very impressive."

Jessica furrowed her brow, then realized what he was talking about.

"You mean Old Tabbs?"

"Your people call it a 'wampus cat.' In my language the word is '_ewah_.' There have been reports of such creatures since before I was born."

Jessica wondered how long ago that was.

"You faced it, and that commands respect. You mastered your fear. The ewah's greatest weapon, far worse than its claws, is its ability to inspire panic. Not many can resist it. That's why I called you 'Little Warrior.' Be proud of what you have done."

"Mr. Fish-Hawk, your majesty, uh, sir?"

The ghost almost allowed himself to grin. "Yes?"

"Well, everybody talks about what a big deal it is that I saw this wampus cat or ewah or whatever it's called. But…I don't even know what a wampus cat is!"

"Hmm. I suppose that lesson comes later in your education," Chief Fish-Hawk said. "I don't think Mr. Malleus would object if I explained it."

"No, sir."

"You understand about werecreatures, don't you? Werewolves, werebears, werejaguars, and the like?"

"I never knew there were anything but were_wolves_, but yes. They're people who are cursed to turn into animals, right?"

Chief Fish-Hawk nodded. "And you know that some wizards are skin-walkers, what your people call Animagi, who can transform themselves at will into animal forms?"

"Yes," Jessica said.

"An ewah is produced when these sorts of transformations fail."

"Fail?"

"There are certain curses that can prevent a werecat from fully transforming. Or, the transfiguration required to become an Animagus can go wrong due to lack of skill or the attack of an enemy. An ewah is the result: no longer human, no longer beast, but both—or neither."

Jessica gasped.

"The ewah is trapped in a shape that isn't its own."

"So, Old Tabbs…?"

"…used to be a human, yes. Though after fifteen years there may not be much human left."

This possibility frightened Jessica more than practically anything she had experienced since she first discovered she was a witch.

"Run along, Little Warrior," the ghost said at last. "You're expected to be in your dormitory soon."

Jessica bowed slightly and hurried across the starlit lawn in the direction of the Proudfeather dorm.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: My depiction of the rules of Quodpot is partly inspired by Marc Rowley's A Brief History of Quodpot.<p> 


	17. Parkinson Hall

The Potions classroom at Malkin Academy always smelled of incense Madame Glapion burned to mask the smell of the less savory potion ingredients. Bat spleens, pond slime, sal ammoniac, and many of the other items Madame Glapion kept in stock didn't exactly produce a homey atmosphere. Most students' noses soon got used to the strange odors. Even so, the Potions classroom generally smelled more of sandalwood or juniper—for which everyone was grateful.

Madame Glapion had patiently worked with her first-years for a month now. She drilled them on general Potion-making theory and techniques, all the while stopping to tell them interesting tidbits about this, that, or something else.

Jessica was surprised to learn that Madame Glapion's husband, who had died years ago, had been an Auror, which was a kind of top-notch Dark wizard hunter. She couldn't imagine her Potions teacher marrying someone in such a dangerous profession.

It didn't take much to get Madame Glapion to tell a story. During the second week of September, as the first-year Proudfeathers and Quickfangs were working on boil cures, Aisha noticed a potion brewing in the large iron kettle in the fireplace behind the teacher's desk.

"Madame Glapion," she said, "what's that in your kettle? It smells…"

"Awful, ain't it, chère?" Madame Glapion laughed. "That's the sulphur you smell. Reeks like a rotten egg! No matter how much honey you add, you're never going to mask the sulphur."

"But what is it, Madame?" asked Richard Kam.

"That, Richard, is a Cure-all—or at least it will be when it's ready. I'd give it about another month. It's a very complicated potion, and I've only started this morning."

"A Cure-all?" Susan said. "I've never heard of those."

"It's a New Orleans specialty," Madame Glapion replied. "I'm making up a batch to show my seventh-years. They're just not getting the right consistency with theirs."

"But what does it do?" James Berry asked.

"Why, a Cure-all does just what it says. It cures all your problems."

"You mean it's a healing potion?" Jessica asked.

"Not exactly," Madame Glapion answered. "A Cure-all is mostly for other kinds of problems. Losing money, bad grades, a fight with your boyfriend or girlfriend. That sort of thing."

Jessica's eyes grew wide, but James scoffed. "That's not even possible," he said.

Madame Glapion simply smiled.

"I mean," James continued. "How is a Potion going to fix a bad grade?"

"Oh, I don't know," the Potions teacher said. "My granddaddy says when he was in school back in Louisiana he plumb forgot about a Charms test that was coming up. Fortunately, he was tops in his class in Potions, and had just finished up a batch. He drank, it, and that very night a haint got into the Charms teacher's office and ripped up every test in the stack before he could even grade them! Everybody had to re-take the test, and my granddaddy got a second chance to pass it."

Gasps of wonder and appreciation filled the Potions classroom—mainly from those who were not the best students!

"I knew a witch from Baton Rouge who was all torn up because her boyfriend left her. After she took a Cure-all, three other boys asked her out the same day. Well, that got the first boyfriend—the one she really liked—to thinking about what he was throwing away. It wasn't long before he showed up at her door, begging for her to take him back!

"A Cure-all seems to find a way if it's strong enough. Mr. Corntassel brought me some really fresh jimson weed for this batch, so I bet it'll be good and strong. But be careful, children. Cure-alls can be addictive, and they can't do everything.

"Now, how are y'all's boil cures coming? Aisha, that looks really nice. Everybody, come look at Aisha's cauldron. See that dark cinnamon color? That's what yours should look like."

Jessica wondered if a Cure-all potion would make Marcus Poole disappear. Even if it would only keep Kate from being so friendly to Claudius Poole, she would drink it, no matter what it smelled like. Ever since she saw them holding hands outside the _Caterwaul_ office Jessica didn't know what to think. Sure, Kate was having a rough time because of her dad and the goblins and everything, but Kate wasn't almost eaten by a monster when somebody knocked her broom off course!

"Madame Glapion," Susan had raised her hand.

"Yes?"

"Well, if it's not too personal…"

"Spit it out, child. I'll tell you if it's too personal or not." Everybody tittered.

"Madame Glapion, did you ever drink a Cure-all when…when your husband died?"

The Potions teacher looked tenderly into Susan's eyes. Instead of her normal smile, her face grew compassionately serious.

"As a matter of fact, Susan, I did," she said.

"So…what happened?"

The room plunged into deep silence for nearly half a minute. Then Madame Glapion said, "I'm still here, aren't I?"

* * *

><p>September passed into October before anyone had even noticed. The days were noticeably shorter and most mornings were now crisp and cool. Students began wearing their cloaks to morning classes, although no one needed them any more by noon.<p>

At breakfast one Wednesday Kate received an owl from Mr. Corntassel. It simply said,

_**Dear Kate,**_

_**Please come see me during your Study Hall period this afternoon. I will inform Ms. Lector of your absence.**_

_**Yours,**_

_**Mr. Corntassel**_

Kate pondered what this was all about. She worried her head of house wanted to yell at her about her grades. She didn't think she was in danger of academic probation, but in truth she wasn't sure what to think.

Like every other day, it seemed, going to her classes was like marching through molasses. In Care of Magical Creatures, Ms. Hoskins finished a lecture on telling the difference between doxies, pixies, and fairies. In Potions they practiced making Shrinking Solutions, but Kate's ended up making Will's head grow two inches! Fortunately, a few drops of Felicia's potion shrunk him back down to the proper size.

Last of all came History of Magic. They had at last finished Ancient Greek and Roman wizards and were starting the Middle Ages. The topic of the day was "Merlin: The Man Behind the Magic." Kate didn't manage to do anything more than doodle in her notebook and glance at her watch.

The bell rang at 1:50. Rather than heading to Study Hall in the library, Kate jogged in the opposite direction, toward Parkinson Hall, Room E. She knocked on Mr. Corntassel's office and, finding it unlocked, stepped inside and found a seat in one of his sofas.

Ten minutes passed without any sign of Mr. Corntassel. She noticed a jar on her teacher's desk. It contained what looked like freshly cut herbs and was labeled "Catnip (_Nepeta cataria_)." Kate wondered if this had anything to do with Old Tabbs. She shifted in her seat and chewed on her fingernails. There was still no sign of Mr. Corntassel.

Then at last, she heard a voice say, "Good afternoon, Kate."

Kate turned around, startled. As she did, she saw Mr. Corntassel silently materializing out of thin air as he strode into the room.

"I didn't mean to frighten you," the Herbology teacher said. "Sometimes it's just more relaxing for me to be invisible."

"Uh huh," Kate said, pretending she had the slightest idea what Mr. Corntassel was talking about.

"Besides, one of Zardgrog's cronies has been trailing me all day. So I decided to take a walk along Powler Creek." He grinned. As he brushed back his long, gray hair Kate noticed for the first time the subtle points on Mr. Corntassel's ears. "Very relaxing, indeed."

He strolled to his desk and took his seat.

"I know you've had it rough the past month or so, Kate. The whole faculty knows it." He opened his desk drawer and rummaged around for something, at last producing a small glass vial.

"Please forgive me. I overheard your conversation the other night with Will and Dana. About Mr. Malleus?"

Kate gasped. "You were there?"

"I'm very protective of the members of my house. I guess it's just my nature," he said. Kate saw the set of his jaw and the look of determination in his deep brown eyes. For a second he reminded her of a regal Cherokee warrior from a bygone day.

"You must know, Kate, that Mr. Malleus treasures his privacy." He reached across his desk to place the vial in Kate's outstretched hand. Her mouth dropped open. "It took a great deal of persuasion to convince him to part with this."

"Yes, sir."

"We—the faculty—believe you have a right to know what this is all about. At least, as far as we ourselves understand it."

She felt the weight of the vial in her hand. Inside was a silvery substance, neither liquid nor gas but somehow both at the same time.

"As it turns out, your friend Claudius was not quite up to re-applying the Mindmuse Charm on Jeremy Loew's copy machine. Thankfully, Ms. Ruiz has taken the matter in hand." Mr. Corntassel winked.

"I'm sure Claudius will be pleased," Kate said, smiling.


	18. The Auror's Tale

Kate was determined to see Mr. Malleus's memory that very night. At supper she convinced Dana and Will to come along. Felicia wanted to come along but she had been injured at Quodpot practice the day before. Dana was all for it in a second. As usual, Will took a little more convincing. Fortunately, Will could usually be cajoled, persuaded, or shamed into going along with Kate and Dana's plans. At last, everyone was agreed that it was worth risking detention to help Kate and her family.

Later that night, Kate and Will hung around in the Proudfeather common room playing Exploding Snap and waiting for everyone else to go to bed. Other students read, finished their homework, or simply socialized. Jessica and the other first-year girls had claimed a table near the bookshelves where they took turns transfiguring a beetle into a button and then un-transfiguring it back.

By 11:30 Will and Kate had the common room to themselves. At midnight, they traded glances and wordlessly got up from their game, used their wands to extinguish the lamps, and slipped out the door.

Dana was already waiting for them outside. With Kate in the lead, they stepped off the covered portico and headed for the far back corner of Osserly Hall. Last year they had discovered a first-floor window with a broken latch. They were all relieved to find that it had not yet been repaired.

Will, who was strongest and tallest, reached up and forced the window open. The top pane creaked just once. Will gently but firmly pulled it down until it slid into place in front of the bottom pane. He offered his clasped hands as a step up for Kate and then Dana to clamber through into a small supply closet. Finally, Will used the outside windowsill as a foothold to climb up and join them.

Kate opened the closet door the tiniest crack and peered outside. There was no sign of wizards, witches, ghosts, or goblins. Kate risked a Wand-lighting Spell. With the whispered incantation, the tip of her wand began to glow.

The trio slipped out into the hallway near the Muggle Studies classroom. They didn't dare try the main staircases in the entrance chamber but instead wove through Osserly Hall until they found the back stairs that led from the Ancient Runes and Arithmancy corridor up to the far end of the Charms corridor. From there, the History of Magic classroom was just around the corner and, across the hall, the _Caterwaul_ office.

The plan was for Dana to stand guard in the hall near the main stairway because she was the best of the three at coming up with a good lie under pressure. ("No offense, Dana," Kate had reassured her.) Meanwhile, Will would watch the door and let Kate examine the memory using the magical copy machine.

So far, the plan worked perfectly. Dana had taken her position and, after a few minutes' wait in the boys' restroom while Lady Alice upbraided Annabelle, the flapper ghost, about the immodesty of her dress, Kate and Will sneaked to the _Caterwaul_ office door.

The door was locked.

Kate tapped it with her wand and said, "_Alohomora_." She tried again. This time the door silently opened.

"All right," she whispered. "If you see anyone coming, whatever you do, don't shout! Flash me a red light from your wand, okay?"

"Red light," Will repeated. "Got it."

There stood the copy machine in the center of the room, as if it were waiting for her. Kate pulled up a stool and reached in her bag for the glass vial Mr. Corntassel had given her that afternoon.

She held her wand up next to the copy machine to see which button to push. She gingerly poured the contents of the vial into the copper funnel attached to the side. Wisps of silvery light fell from the vial like strands of electrified spider silk. She gave it one last shake to make sure she had emptied it completely.

_Here goes_, she thought.

She checked the feeder tray to see that there was parchment ready. Seeing there was, she gave the crank a single turn. The machine swallowed up a blank sheet of parchment and deposited a printed sheet on the other side. Like Claudius Poole's Ancient Runes memory, this sheet seemed to be illustrated with an intricate line drawing.

Kate held the parchment up and squinted to study it by wand light. Suddenly, however, she had the sensation of falling. She didn't fall down. She didn't even fall up. Rather, she felt herself falling forward, straight into the leaf of parchment she held in front of her.

And then she wasn't in the _Caterwaul_ office any more. Indeed, she wasn't anywhere in the real world. Kate was inside the line drawing she had been looking at a second before. Everything was in black and white (or, rather, ivory), drawn, apparently, by an expert artist with a keen eye for the slightest detail. Whichever way she turned, in the upper right corner of her field of vision was written "February 7" in a bold, angular hand.

As she held her wand out in front of her she realized that she had become an animated drawing of herself!

She looked around to get her bearings. She was in an office she recognized. The last time she was there, she was being interrogated by an irate goblin. There were footsteps, and then Mr. Malleus came through the door, passed right in front of her, and knocked on a second door at the other end of the room.

"Come in," said the voice of Athanasius Towne.

Mr. Malleus pushed the door open and entered Principal Towne's private office. Assuming she was invisible to these amazing cartoon teachers, she followed him in.

Principal Towne sat behind a great wooden desk in a huge octagonal room lined with old portraits and glass-encased bookshelves. He offered Mr. Malleus a chair, but he insisted on standing and pacing.

"Cowan's still in pretty bad shape," the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher announced. "He's awake but he's in a lot of pain. Multiple curses, all of them pretty nasty. His arm was nearly burned off."

"Do you have any leads?"

Mr. Malleus frowned. "I know you trust Burroughs, Mr. Towne, but if I may say so, I don't think you're showing good judgment. You told me yourself, you tapped Burroughs and Cowan to keep their eyes open for you, to let you know of anything suspicious they might happen on. Now Cowan is in the infirmary. The only thing that makes sense is, they got into a fight over that Dunlap girl. She was going with Burroughs last year, right? Then they broke up and now she's going with Cowan. That's bound to make a young, ambitious man kid like Burroughs angry."

"Angry enough to attempt premeditated murder, Jacob? You can't be serious! Henry says they heard a rumor about Mr. Lake. Miles was trailing him. Henry was nowhere near Warlocks Ridge when the attack occurred.

"It seems like an awfully fishy coincidence to me. Especially since no one has seen Lake since!"

"Be that as it may, Mr. Malleus, I trust Henry Burroughs. But whatever you think about him, please remember that there are two mysteries before us: Cowan's attack and Lake's disappearance. I'd like to know what you turn up about Lake. Someone has been spreading rumors about him—someone I would normally be inclined to believe…but recently I'm not so sure." There was a pause. "Is there something else, Jacob?"

"There's one more mystery, if you please. Tragus says he's heard a wild animal on Warlocks Ridge, not too far from where Miles was attacked. From the tracks he thinks it's some kind of cat—and I don't mean a Tabby!"

"Yes, Jacob, I'm aware of the situation. But there have always been creatures on Warlocks Ridge, and some of them have always been dangerous."

"But this new one has me worried. Mr. Towne, do you think it's possible that Burroughs is an unregistered Animagus?"

"Henry Burroughs? Certainly not! For one thing, he would never do something illegal. And for another, in all confidence, he has never been that good at Transfiguration!"

The ink lines that comprised Kate's reality swirled into a blur. They re-formed in half a second, however, into an entirely new scene. Now Kate was standing on a muddy lane she recognized as somewhere on the outskirts of Malkinville. She realized the date floating off to her right had changed to "March 23."

Mr. Malleus was walking beside another man she had never met, a younger wizard in a dark cloak.

"You better take it now, Jacob," the other wizard said in a musical Cajun accent. "You don't want these jokers to see you before you change."

Mr. Malleus pulled a small bottle of dark liquid from his pocket. "Who'd you say this is?"

"Muggle from Bristol. 'Bout your size."

Mr. Malleus and his friend slipped into an alley. He downed the contents of the bottle in a single gulp, grimaced, and braced himself. His features began to melt and then re-form, smoother and darker-complexioned than before. Instead of his normal self, Mr. Malleus had assumed the form of a much younger black man.

"Polyjuice Potion!" Kate exclaimed. She had never seen it before, but she had read about it in her Potions class.

"Ready, Jacob?"

"Ready, Louis." The pair strolled out of the alley and entered Shagbark's, a seedy tavern Kate's parents had forbidden her from ever going near.

As soon as they went inside, Kate gasped. Sitting at a corner table was her teenage dad—and Leonora Perdue!

Jacob and Louis found a seat in the center of the room. Kate edged over to her dad to find out what he and the brown-eyed beauty were talking about. The closer she got, however, the less she could hear. _This is Mr. Malleus's memory_, she realized, _not Dad's_.

But then suddenly her dad's voice came through loud and clear. "…told him to meet us at ten. He should be here by now," he said.

Kate whipped around to see that Mr. Malleus had slipped some kind of plug into his ear. It must have been a magical hearing aid of some sort. He pretended to be deep in conversation with his partner. Occasionally he would take a sip of the coffee the barmaid had brought him.

"Ah," Kate's dad said. Kate looked toward the door. In walked another man, in his twenties. He had a silk scarf pulled up over most of his face and the brim of his hat shielded most of the rest.

He strolled to her father's table and sat down beside him. He took off his hat, revealing a tangle of dark hair. There was something vaguely familiar about him, Kate thought, but she couldn't put her finger on what.

"Alright, you two," Henry Burroughs said, "you wanted a meeting. So here we are. Does one of you want to tell me what in the name of Merlin is going on?"

"Indeed," the man called Lake said. He turned to Leonora Perdue. "So now you're a school teacher, eh?"

"And you're a groundskeeper, is that right, 'Lake' or whatever you're calling yourself?" Ms. Perdue glared at him. She seemed nervous to be in the same room with the stranger, much less at the same table. "Go on, Mr. 'Lake,' tell Henry here what's going on. What do you want?"

"You know exactly what I want, Nora dear. And I'm ready to pay you a fair price. One thousand Scepters, as soon as the cup is in my hands."

"That's a very generous offer. It's too bad I don't have the cup."

"You don't expect me to believe that, do you, Nora? After all we went through to get it?"

"Believe what you will, 'Lake,' I don't have the cup."

"'Don't have the cup.' Do you believe this, Burroughs? It was her idea to keep the splinching thing in the first place. Now she says she doesn't have it. What did you do, sell it back to the goblins?"

"I'm telling you, I don't know where it is. I wanted rid of it—just as I want to be rid of you!"

"Is that right?" Lake grinned, but it wasn't a particularly friendly grin. "Well, this certainly puts things in a different light. I wonder what Nott's going to say when he finds out the cup is missing."

Leonora shuddered at the name, "Nott."

"And Nott's boss isn't going to be too happy, either."

"You're one to talk, 'Lake.' It's not like you and Nott are bosom buddies."

Now Lake was the one to turn pale. "You stand to lose a lot more than me, girlie," he spat. "I know why you fell in with Nott, and I know what he promised you—"

"Quiet!" Leonora shouted.

"What's the matter, Nora, don't want to let the cat out of the bag?"

"I said _quiet_!"

Before Kate knew what was happening, Lake had his wand out and pointed at Leonora.

Just as quickly, a wand poked straight through Kate's line-drawn body. She jumped out of the way and saw that Mr. Malleus's partner, Louis, had sprung up from his table at the first sign of trouble.

"Is there a problem here, y'all?" he said. He flashed his Auror's badge.

"Yes!" Leonora said at once. "This man is threatening me."

"Is that right?"

"And he's the man who's been missing from Malkin Academy for the past month and a half. I'll bet you've got plenty of questions you'd like to ask him."

"Then I think you better come with me, sir," Louis said.

"You haven't heard the last of me, Nora Perdue!" the man called Lake shouted as Mr. Malleus and his partner wrestled him out of the tavern.

"And you haven't heard the last of me, _Cyrus Poole_!"

Suddenly Kate knew why "Mr. Lake" looked familiar. He had the same features and bushy dark hair that Claudius and Marcus Poole shared.

Once again the picture swirled and blurred. Once again it resolved itself into a completely different scene. The date was "March 31." Mr. Malleus had resumed his normal appearance. He was sitting in his office. According to the clock on the wall, it was five minutes till eight.

Kate's dad had just entered the room and sat down across the desk from his Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. His impressive collection of sneakoscopes, foe-glasses and other Dark detectors were silent, but Kate's dad was agitated.

"Mr. Malleus," he said. "You were right. Nott is in Malkinville. I ran into him Sunday.

"Indeed?" Mr. Malleus said. He straightened up in his chair and grabbed a quill.

"That's right. He says he'll pay two thousand Scepters for the cup. And he told me all about it. It's an ancient artifact from Persia. I take it his boss back in England would love to get his hands on it."

Mr. Malleus jotted notes on the parchment in front of him.

"So, did you follow my plan?"

"Yes, sir. I acted like I could get it for him. And you're never going to believe this: he says he sent Nora and Lake—I mean Poole—to steal it for him!"

"Really?"

"Yeah. He said some Greek fellow in England has had it in his private collection for years, but he sent it to America for safekeeping. I guess You-Know-Who has spies everywhere, though, because he knew it was moving almost as soon as it happened. Then Nott showed up and somehow convinced them to do his dirty work. You-Know-Who would have probably had it by now, except Poole and Nora double-crossed him. He's been looking for them ever since."

"Merlin!" Mr. Malleus sighed.

"But then Nora must have decided to ditch Poole and keep the cup for herself. Of course, eventually he tracked her down. When he did, he showed up here, calling himself Lake and looking for work as a groundskeeper."

"And Ms. Perdue, fearing Poole would expose her, set you and Miles on him…"

"…by telling us the truth: he's a shady character we'd better keep our eyes on. But Nott was already trailing him, too. He's steaming mad about the cup and he's determined to get it back.

"And you haven't heard the best part." The animated drawing of Kate's dad could barely contain itself. "I know where it is!"

"You what?"

"Nora had it all along. But she didn't trust Poole and she's been trying to get shed of Nott for months now herself. I think he's blackmailing her. But she trusts me," he blushed. "She's talking about how we can run away together once the other two are out of the way. Not that I ever would, of course!" he quickly added.

"I should hope not!" Mr. Malleus interjected. "Students and teachers are not permitted to fraternize with each other under any circumstances!"

"I know, Mr. Malleus," the young Mr. Burroughs said. "She's walking as close to the line as she can. She talks about how once I graduate in another few weeks we can, well…."

"But first she wants Poole and Nott out of the way," Mr. Malleus said. "And she's already taken care of the first one. Cyrus Poole is one sorry snake. He's mum about the cup, but he's been a small-time crook for years. We've found enough on him to send him away for a couple of years at least."

Mr. Malleus turned toward Kate's dad. "Mr. Burroughs," he said, "I hope you realize you're in way over your head."

Kate's dad swallowed. "I-I know," he said. "But we've almost got them, Mr. Malleus. Nott has given Nora till tomorrow to bring him the cup. Then he's supposed to pay us both. I get the two thousand Scepters, but he talks like he has something Nora wants even more than gold.

Mr. Malleus shook his head. "I don't know, Henry…"

"Please, Mr. Malleus. You and your Auror friends can be there. You can round them both up at once."

The Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher sighed. "Tomorrow?

"Tomorrow night. Midnight. The top of Warlocks Ridge."

The scene changed again. Kate was in an animated illustration of a forest. Mr. Malleus was once again side by side with his partner, Louis. They were following a moonlit trail through the woods, inching stealthily toward what had to be the top of Warlocks Ridge. Three or four others followed close behind. They turned left at a fork in the path and then veered to the right.

They reached a clearing where three shadowy figures stood. Louis used hand signals to tell the other Aurors to circle around them. The words "April 1" floated above her and to the right. The moon was almost full.

She slipped into a clearing where three figures stood. Kate's dad and Leonora Perdue had their wands pointed at a man Kate had never seen before: an elderly man in a dingy cloak. Perhaps it was a trick of the unseen artist's style, but this man had a mean, almost animalistic look to him. The man pointed his wand alternately at Leonora and Kate's dad.

"On three," he growled. Though Kate was closer to him than to Mr. Malleus, he still sounded far away. From underneath his cloak he produced a money pouch and a metal flask. With a wave of his wand, the two items floated several inches above his hand.

At the same time, Leonora pulled an ornate cup from her shoulder bag. The top was a perfect circle. At the bottom were a lion's head and claws, and eagle-like wings spread upwards to form handles by which to hold it. The assistant Charms teacher made the cup levitate above her outstretched hand.

"One," Kate's dad said.

"Two," said the old man, who Kate realized must be the Englishman named Nott.

"Three," said Ms. Perdue.

The cup floated into Nott's hand as the coin pouch floated to Kate's dad and the flask floated to Ms. Perdue. Kate's dad slipped the money inside his cloak. Nott stared at the cup. He waved his wand over it and muttered an incantation.

The cup filled with liquid. Nott studied the contents, a look of confusion growing across his wizened face.

Leonora slipped the flask into her bag. Both she and Kate's dad kept their wands pointed at Nott.

"Something's up!" Mr. Malleus whispered, far more distinctly than the voices of her dad and the others who gathered in the clearing.

Nott howled with rage. "Treachery!" he shouted. "How dare you?" He lowered his wand toward Leonora Perdue.

"_Cruc_-" he began.

Kate's dad shouted, "_Expelliarmus_!" A jet of light emerged from the tip of his wand.

"Go! Go!" Louis shouted.

Nott contracted the muscles of his arm and hand as if he had touched an electric eel. He kept hold of his wand despite the Disarming Spell, though he was unable to complete his Cruciatus. He turned on Kate's dad.

Louis, his men, and Mr. Malleus emerged from the trees, wands drawn.

"Fake!" Nott spat. "You'll pay for this!"

"Fake?" Kate's dad cried.

Then things happened so fast Kate could barely keep up. Jets of magical energy flew in every direction. Two or three Aurors rushed at Nott, who managed to get off a couple of curses before they eventually wrestled him to the ground. In the confusion Leonora grabbed Kate's dad's hand. There was a sound like fireworks or perhaps a gunshot.

Someone had placed a Full Body-Bind on Nott. He glared at the Aurors who hoisted him to his feet, unable to speak.

Another Auror lay on the ground, injured.

Mr. Malleus and his partner were fanning into the woods, searching the ground by wand light.

Kate's dad and Leonora were gone.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: My daughter insisted, for some reason, on a magical copy machine. This was what I came up with.<p> 


	19. Arresting Developments

Days passed before Kate could bring herself to discuss Mr. Malleus's memories with her friends. She drifted through her classes on Thursday and Friday, barely talking to anyone. At Friday morning's Ancient Runes class, sitting in the same room with Claudius Poole was almost unbearable. As usual, he tried to find an excuse to talk to her after class. Today the blue fire in her eyes warned him away before he said a single word.

Kate knew it wasn't Claudius's fault his dad was mixed up in this. He wasn't even born then and he probably didn't know anything about it. But she couldn't bring herself to face him after what she had seen.

She kept going over everything in her mind, but something didn't add up. Nott, the Englishman, had convinced Leonora and Poole to steal the Cup of Kings when its owner sent it to America. But they decided to keep it for themselves. Then Leonora double-crossed Poole. She fled to Malkin Academy with the cup and became the assistant Charms teacher. By winter, however, Poole had tracked her down. He got a job as groundskeeper and went by the name "Lake."

Poole was an obvious threat, so Leonora tipped off Kate's dad and Miles Cowan about him. Soon after, Poole must have attacked Cowan, but figuring his cover was blown, he disappeared—only he kept close by, hoping to retrieve the cup from Leonora. Only, when they gave the cup to Nott, the Englishman did some magic on it that exposed it as a fake."

"But what happened next?" Kate asked Will and Felicia as she finally told them the story on Friday night in the Proudfeather common room. "The Aurors caught Nott, but Dad and Ms. Perdue Apparated out of there. But where to?"

"Cauldron Bottom?" Will suggested.

Kate shook her head. "Ms. Perdue was Apparating; Dad was just along for the ride. There's no way she would have known where Dad lived."

"I'd guess she took him back to school," Felicia offered, "but everybody knows you can't Apparate to or from campus."

"Maybe she went to get the _real_ cup," Will said. Kate and Felicia looked at him in puzzlement. "I mean, what if she tried to pass off a fake cup to Nott to get him out of her hair? But she knew where the real one was. With Nott arrested, she might have figured it was safe to get the real one and make her escape."

Felicia frowned. "That makes sense," she admitted. "And it would explain why the goblins are after your dad, Kate. If they had the same idea Will did, they'd figure your dad was in on it, that he and Perdue were in on it together."

"That's why they asked me what I knew about Leonora Perdue," Kate said. "She's the key to this whole thing, isn't she? If we could find her, she could tell the goblins Dad is innocent."

"But we're not going to find her, Kate," Will said. "We've been over this before. Nobody has seen her in fifteen years. She's probably dead."

Kate glared at her friend, but she knew he was right.

* * *

><p>On Wednesday Jessica and her friends were leaving History of Magic when they heard a loud bang in the hallway. Students were shouting and a foul smelling smoke had filled the balcony overlooking Osserly Hall's grand foyer.<p>

When they pushed to the front of the gathering crowd, Jessica, Aisha, Jennifer, and Susan saw Marcus Poole wrestling on the floor with Richard Kam. Richard's face was covered with warts, and Marcus's was red and splotchy, and it looked like he had been crying. In the confusion, Ugnarl the goblin had been pushed down the stairs.

A group of first-year Quickfang and Strongfoot boys yelled and egged them on. Their wands lay abandoned at their feet as their fists flew at each other wildly.

"Stop it!" Mr. Malleus bellowed. He stormed out of his classroom. Ms. Ruiz and Mr. Rainey were close behind him.

With a wave of Mr. Malleus's wand Marcus and Richard flew apart like two magnets repelling each other. In a second he had grabbed Richard while Mr. Rainey restrained Marcus.

"You want to tell us what the thunder is going on?" Mr. Rainey bellowed.

"He started it!" Richard Kam cried. "I heard him call me a… a…."

"He used the M-word, Mr. Rainey!" said an African American Quickfang boy named Charlie Knapp.

"Is that true, Poole?" Mr. Malleus practically snarled at Marcus. "Did you call Kam a name?"

"I didn't mean it!" he protested. There was no haughty self-confidence in his expression, only something akin to terror. "B-but he cast the first jinx! He hit me with that Stink Bomb Jinx right in the face. I only jinxed him back. Honest!"

"Is that right?" Mr. Rainey said. He spun Marcus around, grasped him by the shoulders, and looked him straight in the eye. "Well, here's something else that's _honest_: I despise that word and I take it personally when you use it."

"Y-you mean…?"

"What? Did you think Malkin Academy only hires pure-blood wizards?"

Marcus's eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets. A second later his lower lip began to quiver. Mr. Rainey continued.

"You just lost Strongfoot another twenty-five points. Five for using magic in the halls, ten for fighting, and ten for using that hateful word. Is that _honest_ enough for you, young man?"

"Don't look so smug, Kam," Mr. Malleus added. "I'm also taking fifteen points from Quickfang." Richard started to protest, but Mr. Malleus continued, "Unless you'd like to call Mr. Poole an ugly name and make it twenty-five?"

"I'll pass," Richard said with venom in his voice.

With the excitement over, the crowd dispersed. Everyone, it seemed, had an opinion about what they had witnessed.

"I can't believe he called Richard the M-word," Charlie Knapp said.

"My dad would kill me if I did that."

"I heard his folks are divorced. He hasn't seen his dad in years."

"Maybe that explains it. That kid is seriously messed up," said a Quickfang girl.

"You should try living with him," said Thomas Ogden. "I swear, one of these days…."

"Does he have any friends at all?" an older Fairgarland boy asked.

"I don't think so," Thomas said. "All of his roommates have tried. He just pushes us away. I don't think he even wants to have friends."

"If he doesn't straighten up, he won't have to worry about that!"

"Stupid patch-robe."

Jessica was one of the last to slip down the stairs and across the lawn to the library.

For the first time since they had met, she felt sorry for Marcus Poole.

* * *

><p>The next day was the twenty-seventh of October. Although the school was gearing up for Halloween, Kate only had thoughts about what she had seen in the <em>Caterwaul<em> office. Over a week had passed since Kate watched Mr. Malleus's memories in the darkened office of the school newspaper. If her ability to concentrate in class had been bad before, now it was positively dreadful. In Study Hall she tried to work on a page of runes Ms. Svenson-Benson had given them to interpret, but she kept mistaking two similar-looking runes and turning what were supposed to be expressions of joy and well-being into warnings of imminent danger.

In Muggle Studies Mr. Cryer explained the Laws of Motion devised by a Muggle scientist named Isaac Newton. He kept going on about how these Laws were crucial to why Muggles rejected the possibility of magic actually working, but none of it made a bit of sense to Kate.

As much as she liked Mr. Corntassel, even Herbology failed to capture her interest. By lunchtime, she was giving serious thought to pretending she was sick so she could cut Defense Against the Dark Arts and Charms.

As it turned out, she wouldn't have to pretend.

She was halfway across the lawn when Bobby Prewett, her second-year cousin, came tearing toward her with a newspaper in his hand.

"Kate!" he called. There was something like fear in his eyes.

"What is it, Bobby?"

"Kate, I'm sorry," he said, slowing down to keep from running into her. "I knew you'd want to know." He held out the October 27th edition of _Wizarding World Today_. Kate nearly fainted as she read the front-page headline:

_**NEW CHARGE IN BURROUGHS INVESTIGATION**_

_**By Phyllis Catchpole**_

_**GEORGETOWN – Last night goblins from the Security Division of Gringotts Wizarding Bank formally charged Henry Burroughs with the murder of Leonora Perdue. Burroughs has been under investigation since August for alleged crimes committed fifteen years ago when he was still a student at the Malkin Academy for the Magical Arts. **_

_** The goblins have submitted a formal petition to the Bureau of Goblin Affairs to turn Burroughs over to them to face trial under goblin law. A Goblin Affairs spokeswizard who prefers to remain anonymous admits the Bureau is likely to honor this request to avoid further escalating tensions with the goblin community. If so, Burroughs could be in goblin custody by next week.**_

_** The new charge involves a woman goblins have come to believe was Burroughs's accomplice. Leonora Perdue, a onetime assistant Charms teacher at Malkin Academy, disappeared under mysterious circumstances fifteen years ago—at approximately the same time as the offenses for which Burroughs is being investigated. Goblins now believe Burroughs murdered Perdue in order to gain possession of an unspecified goblin-wrought artifact of great magical power.**_

Kate nearly swooned. "This can't be happening!" she gasped.

"What's going on?" By this time Dana, Will, and Felicia had caught up to Kate. They huddled around her to read over her shoulder. Everyone was in a state of disbelief.

They all headed straight for Osserly Hall, talking and reading the whole way.

"They think your dad is a murderer?" Will said.

"Impossible!" Dana cried. "What else does it say?"

Kate read on as they entered the Dining Hall.

_** By all accounts, Perdue was an exceptionally accomplished witch for her age, having graduated at the top of her class at the Ratleff Hall School of Sorcery. Much of her life remains a mystery, however. Her parents, Elton and Gladys Perdue, died when their daughter was a young girl. She was raised by an aunt, Ms. Tanya Lukes, who was later admitted to the Lycaon Institute in Lousiana. Ms. Lukes passed away seven years ago. **_

"Did you just say 'the Lycaon Institute'?" Will blurted.

"Yeah," Kate said. "You've heard of it?"

"That's the name of the werewolf colony I told you about! On the bus before the start-of-term banquet! Remember?"

"No way!" Dana cried. Everyone at the Proudfeather table turned to see what was going on. Dana blushed and hung her head. "I mean, you can't be serious. Leonora Perdue was related to a werewolf?"

"Maybe she _was_ a werewolf," Will said, awe-stricken. "It can sometimes run in families, you know. But these wizards in Louisiana set up the Lycaon Institute somewhere out on the bayou. They're trying to cure werecreatures, or at least give them as normal a life as possible."

Kate thought of something she saw in Mr. Malleus's memory. "I bet she was a werewolf, and Nott knew it. I bet he was blackmailing her to force her to steal the cup."

Kate's mind raced back and forth over every detail she could remember from her night in the _Caterwaul_ office. "Will, you said the Lycaon people are looking for a cure. So that means there isn't one?"

"Don't you remember, Kate? Mr. Malleus covered all this back in August. There's no known cure for werewolfism. There's only a potion that can keep a werewolf from being so dangerous."

"I'm sorry, Will. I haven't been able to get my brain in gear yet this year."

"We know," Felicia said. "It's not your fault. But what are you thinking, Kate?"

"Perdue wasn't interested in gold," Kate mused. "Nott paid her with some kind of potion. I bet he was trying to pass it off as a cure."

"Do you think it worked?" Felicia said.

"It didn't. It might have made things worse."

Kate and her friends spun around to see who had spoken.

It was Jessica Robinson.

"S-sorry for eavesdropping," she said. "But you've got to admit, you were getting pretty loud."

"Never mind about that," Kate said. "What do you mean, it might have made things worse?"

"I don't think the person you're talking about was a were_wolf_. I think she was a were_cat_."

"A were_cat_," Will said. "Where did you learn about—?"

"But I think something went wrong," she continued. "Maybe it was a curse, or maybe it was a potion that didn't work like it was supposed to. Whatever it was, it caused her transformation to fail. Fifteen years ago. And now she can't change back."

"You mean…?" Will said, wide-eyed.

"Leonora Perdue…" Felicia began.

"I don't know for sure," Jessica said, "but I think she might be Old Tabbs."

"Merlin! That makes sense," Kate said. "Perdue disappeared fifteen years ago—the same time Old Tabbs started haunting Warlocks Ridge."

"Which was the last place anybody ever saw Perdue," Dana said.

Kate turned to Jessica. "Jess," she said, "Thanks for your help. I don't know what I did to make you mad at me, but I'm sorry."

"It's okay," Jessica shrugged. "I was just being…prejudiced. I'll explain later."

The bell rang.

"Class in ten minutes," Kate said. "What do you have next, Jessica?"

"Break. But I need to go to the library and finish up a paper for Ms. Ruiz. What about you?"

"Defense Against the Dark Arts. And today," Kate gritted her teeth, "I'm going to pay attention."


	20. Patronus Practice

Kate did more than pay attention. She took copious notes on all the new defensive spells Mr. Malleus had begun to teach them. Even Will was impressed by how much she was taking down. At the same time, Kate looked for an opening to get Mr. Malleus to tell her what she really wanted to know.

The opportunity came as he described the defenses against some of the Dark creatures they had learned about earlier in the year.

"You'll find that vampires have a high degree of resistance to Stunning Spells," he said. "In this regard they are much like both dragons and giants. Werecreatures are similarly resistant, but only in their animal form. Unless there are several of you to fire off multiple Stuns, fire-based magic is a far more reliable—"

"Mr. Malleus?" Kate's hand shot into the air.

"Yes, Miss Burroughs?"

"What about wampus cats?"

"Wampus cats generally have the same strengths and weaknesses of other werecreatures. Although I would urge any of you to avoid encounters with such creatures." Kate raised her hand again. "Yes, Miss Burroughs?"

"When Jessica Robinson got hurt last month Nurse Choake gave her chocolate. Why chocolate?"

"It seems Miss Burroughs has finally decided to join the class," Mr. Malleus quipped. "Who can get her up to speed on last month's homework? Why would Nurse Choake have prescribed chocolate after an encounter with a wampus cat?"

Will Proctor tentatively raised his hand. "Because of the fear?"

"Precisely, Mr. Proctor. Explain."

"A wampus cat has a special attack. If it makes eye contact, it can cause panic. If it stares at you long enough, it can even drive you insane."

"And the chocolate?"

"I guess it makes you feel better?"

"I admire your grasp of the obvious, Mr. Proctor. Yes, chocolate makes you feel better. It fosters positive emotions, which makes the effects of the wampus cat subside more quickly. Now, if you are uncomfortable using a Stunning Spell or fear it isn't going to work—_Yes_, Miss Burroughs?"

"Is there any way to defend yourself _before_ a wampus cat makes eye contact?"

"Well, class?" Mr. Malleus said. "Mr. Proctor, let's see if anyone else has done their homework, if you don't mind. Anyone? Miss Good? Miss Hyatt? No? Well, Mr. Proctor, it must be your day to shine."

Will cleared his throat. "The textbook says something about a Patronus Charm, but it doesn't give any details."

"Very good, Mr. Proctor. We'll be covering the Patronus after Christmas. It can protect you from a wampus cat's fear attack, although I'm afraid it won't do anything to keep it from biting your head off. As I was saying, another alternative to a Stunning Spell—"

"Mr. Malleus?" Kate's hand was once again jutting skyward.

Mr. Malleus sighed.

"I was just wondering…. What _is_ a Patronus Charm, anyway?"

"As I said, Miss Burroughs, we'll cover the Patronus after Christmas. Now, I have a few more spells I'd like us to work on today—if, of course, that works with your schedule?"

* * *

><p>As soon as the bell rang Kate pulled her friends around her in the hallway.<p>

"Okay," she whispered. "Will, I want you to find out as much as you can about the Patronus Charm. Dana—"

"Wait a minute," Will said. "What are you up to, Kate?"

"There's only one person who can clear my dad, and that's Leonora Perdue."

"Are you crazy?" Will gasped. "You want to go hunting for Old Tabbs?"

"I don't want to, Will, but I don't see any other choice. You read what that article said. The goblins could have my dad in jail by Halloween. If they try him under goblin law, they'll find him guilty for sure! I've got to do something."

"Something, sure, but not this!"

"Will has a point, Kate," Felicia said. "We don't even know for sure that Leonora Perdue _is_ Old Tabbs. It's just a theory."

"I know," Kate said. "But I can feel it."

"Then let's tell a teacher," Dana suggested. "Let Mr. Malleus or Principal Towne know."

"We have to move faster than that, Dana," Kate argued. "Felicia said it: this is just a theory. Teachers would want proof. And that's what I intend to give them."

"And how do you expect to get this proof?" Felicia asked.

"I've got an idea," Kate said. "But I'll need your help. What do you say?"

"I told you two months ago I had your back," Felicia said. "But this is not one of your better ideas."

"Well?"

"I guess I'm in," Felicia said.

"Me, too," Dana said.

"I think I'm going to be sick," Will said.

"Just watch the shoes," Kate said. "Will, you figure out what a Patronus Charm is all about. We can practice after supper." She reached inside her bag. "Dana, here's a Scepter and…three…five…six Daricks. Go to the student commons and buy up as much chocolate as you can. Oh, and an apple-peanut butter Fizzbang if they have any."

"What about me?" Felicia asked.

"Can you get into the Proudfeather equipment locker at the Quodpot stadium?"

"Sure!"

Kate grinned. "Then I think we might actually have a chance."

* * *

><p>Kate didn't want to be overheard in the Proudfeather common room, so after supper she led Dana, Felicia, and Will out to the lake where they could talk in private. Dana had bought nearly every piece of chocolate the student commons had in stock—chocolate bars (with and without nuts), candy-coated chocolate drops, chocolate frogs, chocolate spiders, peanut-butter-and-chocolate concoctions, and many more. She had stowed them in her footlocker in the Fairgarland dormitory until they needed them.<p>

Will gave his report on the Patronus Charm.

"There's a whole chapter on it later in our textbook! And I found some more stuff at the library." He opened his book bag and pulled out his notepad. "It creates a kind of magical shield. It's good against Dark creatures who attack your mind to make you afraid or depressed."

"Sounds perfect!" Kate said. "How do you do it?"

"You've got to have a really happy thought," Will continued. "That's supposed to be the key. Hold on to that thought, and point your wand at whatever's attacking you. The incantation is '_Expecto Patronum_.'"

The four of them tried for nearly an hour to produce Patronuses, but without success. At one point Dana's wand generated a faint silvery glow, but it only lasted a second.

"Maybe our thoughts aren't happy enough," Dana finally said.

"It's hard to have happy thoughts when your dad's about to get arrested!" Kate snapped.

"It's hard to have happy thoughts when all you can think about are wampus cats!" Will sighed.

"Are you sure you don't want to tell a teacher?" Felicia asked.

"I'm sure," Kate said. "But I think I know how to arrange for reinforcements when we need them."

The foursome returned to their dorms just before the ten o'clock curfew. The next day, Friday, they followed the same routine. After supper they strolled out to the lake to practice the Patronus Charm.

Kate, however, made a side-trip with Dana before heading out to the back side of the campus. Walking across the lawn from the library to the Guest House, she saw what she had hoped to see: Zardgrog and two of his assistants coming in the other direction. As quick as she could, she pulled Dana behind a dogwood tree. The two of them scampered up into its branches. The goblins were still too far away to notice them.

"I'm afraid they're getting close," Kate whispered to Dana—but not too softly. Sure enough, out of the corner of her eye she noticed the goblins' imposing ears perk up.

"What are you going to do, Kate?" Dana whispered back, also a bit more loudly than should have been prudent.

"It's not safe where it is. I'm going to have to move it. And soon."

The goblins walked practically underneath them, but both girls made a valiant effort not to let on they had seen them.

"When?" Dana asked.

"Sunday night," Kate said. "I need your help."

"I'll be there."

The goblins passed by and practically skipped up the library's front steps. Kate and Dana grinned at each other, slid down the tree, and ran off to meet Will and Felicia by the lake.

Friday's Patronus practice was only slightly better than Thursday's. This time, everyone but Will managed to get a brief, silvery fizzle from their wands, but nothing like the powerful magical shield their textbook described.

"If we had another month, I bet we'd do it perfectly," Will complained.

"We don't have a month, Will," Kate scolded. "We have until Sunday night. So let's just keep at it, all right?"

They practiced until well after dark, and once again returned to their dorms mere minutes before ten o'clock.

Will insisted they all take Saturday morning off to catch up on their homework. Mr. Gaunt, the Arithmancy teacher, had assigned an essay on the number nine that was due on Monday. He agreed, however, to join them after lunch for another long practice session. It was harder to find a place to practice on Saturday, however, because the grounds were full of students enjoying their day off. They decided to work privately or in twos in order to be less conspicuous. Will and Felicia took a walk along the campus wall. When Felicia left for Quodpot practice that afternoon, she took Kate's canvas bag with her.

Dana and Kate were lucky enough to find an empty, unlocked classroom on the first floor of Osserly Hall. They worked all afternoon and came back after supper because Dana thought she was finally getting the hang of it.

"I'm beat," Dana said after another grueling practice session. Kate allowed herself to admit that she was in no mood to practice any more, either. They decided to call it a day.

"I hope Felicia didn't have any problems," Kate said.

"She'd have come looking for us if she did," Dana reassured her.

"Do you think Will is up to this?"

"He'll be fine. He knows more magic than any of us. He just lacks confidence."

"I know."

Kate and Dana crossed the covered portico. At the Proudfeather dormitory door, Kate turned to Dana. "Tomorrow?" she asked.

"Tomorrow."

Dana headed off to the Fairgarland dorm. Kate told the brass eagle "Melancholy Baby." The door swung open and she went inside.

* * *

><p>Sunday morning at breakfast, a familiar spotted owl landed beside Kate's toast and jelly with an envelope in its beak.<p>

"Hector!" she cried. She retrieved the letter and offered the Burroughs family owl a bite of sausage. She tore open the envelope, scanned the letter silently, and slumped back in her chair.

"What's wrong?" Felicia asked.

"It's from Mom," she said. "The goblins came for Dad last night. They've taken him to DC. Mom is going to get a room at the Dragon's Head. His trial for murder begins tomorrow."

"That was fast!" Felicia gasped.

"Yeah," Kate said. "She also says Dana's dad isn't going to be able to help him this time. The murder charge is separate from the case with the cup, so it's not under the A.T.F.'s jurisdiction. He's on his own."

After breakfast Kate filled in Dana and Will about what she had learned. They figured late morning would be the best time to practice in the empty classroom in Osserly Hall that Kate and Dana had discovered. A lot of kids slept in on Sundays, and as soon as the breakfast crowd cleared out no one would have any reason to be in the main building until lunch.

They practiced hard and seemed to make a little bit of progress. Dana and Will had both succeeded in producing fine looking silvery sprays of light that reminded them of a Shield Charm (although a Shield Charm gave off blue light, not silver).

"A fully formed one is supposed to take on the shape of some kind of animal," Will explained. "I guess that's too much to expect without a lot more practice."

"Just so long as it keeps us from losing our heads," Kate said.

"Do you mean that literally or figuratively?" Will gulped.

They practiced Shield Charms as well. Mr. Malleus had started them working on Shield Charms about a month ago. It was fairly advanced magic for third-years, but he insisted they at least know the basic theory.

"You know," Kate said, "I've never really appreciated how useful it is to have a super-suspicious Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I bet we've learned lots of useful defensive charms just because Mr. Malleus always expects the worst."

"Sometimes it makes sense to expect the worst," Will said.

They broke for lunch and, at Dana's insistence, took the afternoon off. Kate and Felicia rode their broomsticks around the campus. Dana hung out with some of her Fairgarland friends. Will worked on his Transfiguration homework.

They agreed to meet in the Proudfeather common room at midnight.

It couldn't come soon enough for Kate.


	21. Warlocks Ridge

_**Dear Mom and Dad (and Bill and Hunter),**_

_**Sorry I haven't written lately. Things have really been hectic. Classes are going fine. On top of our regular schoolwork we've all been practicing hard for a school tournament next month. It's Transfiguration—turning things into other things. Everybody says I'm pretty good at it but we'll see how it goes. **_

_** There's a boy named Marcus that I'd really like to beat. I haven't said much about him 'cause I try not to think about him any more than I have to. But if you think about it, you should probably say a prayer for him 'cause his life is pretty messed up right now.**_

_** Well, I just wanted to tell you I love you. I think about you every day. I can't wait to come home for Thanksgiving (I'll let you know when I find out how I'm going to get there!). Say hi to Grandma and Grandpa.**_

_**Love,**_

_**Jessica**_

_**PS: There's going to be a big Halloween party tomorrow. Nobody has said anything about dressing up in costumes so that must not be how they do it here. I'll be sure to tell you all about it though. **_

Jessica put down her quill, folded her letter, and slipped it into a parchment envelope she had already addressed. She checked the clock above her desk. It was eight o'clock—plenty of time to run her letter to the owlery before curfew. She told her roommates where she was going, pulled on her cloak, snatched an owl treat from a jar she and her roommates kept on hand, and headed out the door and across the campus.

The sun had set an hour and a half ago. Apart from the lanterns in the doorways of all the campus buildings, it was pitch black outside.

Jessica lit the tip of her wand as she strode across the cobblestone path in front of Osserly Hall.

She was not alone. In the distance she heard the sound of hushed voices conversing in a language she couldn't understand, but which she had heard before. It was the language of goblins.

Jessica picked up her pace and entered a side door to Parkinson Hall that led directly upstairs to the owlery. She found a willing barn owl, fed it a treat, and handed it her letter.

"Have a good flight," she whispered.

As she returned to the Proudfeather dorm she listened closely for the sounds of goblins in the dark. She didn't hear anything, but once when she turned around quickly she saw a pair of beady eyes reflecting her wand light. The eyes vanished as soon as she saw them—but she was sure of what she saw.

_I'll be glad when those goblins pack up and leave!_ she thought.

Back in the dorm, Jessica hung her cloak in her closet, grabbed a book, and went out to the common room. A fire was burning in the fireplace—the first one this year. It had finally gotten cool enough to make a fire a welcome and relaxing presence. She pulled a comfy chair over next to the fire, propped her feet up on a footstool, and began to read tomorrow's assignment for Defense Against the Dark Arts.

It wasn't long, however, before the warmth of the fire and Solomon Bohort's laborious prose got the best of her. Jessica dozed off, dreaming of boggarts, haints, and red caps.

She awoke when she heard a knock at the door, followed by whispered voices.

"Come in quick. Shut the door," Kate said.

There was the sound of shuffling. Jessica realized the fire had nearly burned itself out. She dared to peek around the back of her chair to see what was going on.

Will, Kate, and Felicia had just let Dana into the Proudfeather common room.

"I brought the chocolate," Dana said, also in a whisper. She passed paper sacks to the other three.

"Let's eat some now, just in case," Will said. He fished around in his sack for a bag of candy-coated chocolates, ripped it open, and downed half of them in one gulp. The others followed his lead.

Kate opened her canvas bag.

"Hurry," she said. "Put these on." From her bag she pulled something that looked like a roll of shiny black material. She handed it to Felicia, who unfolded it and pulled it over her head. It was a dragon-skin tunic; the kind Quodpot players wore to protect themselves from exploding Quods. Next Kate produced a matching helmet and set of gauntlets. Then she proceeded to pull three additional sets of Quodpot padding from her bag.

"You really came through, Felicia," Kate said.

"Let's just hope I can get them back before our next practice!"

"I'll be happy if you can get them back without any claw marks," Kate said. "But if everything goes well, all my problems with these goblins will soon be over."

With their tunics and gauntlets in place, the foursome donned their cloaks.

"Is that everything?" Dana said.

"Almost." Kate glanced toward Jessica's chair. For a split second the two made eye contact. Jessica thought she saw a glimmer of recognition on Kate's face, but she didn't speak to her. Instead, she told the others, "We need to get going. It's a long hike up to Warlocks Ridge."

With their helmets in their hands, they filed outside and shut the door gingerly behind them.

Jessica sat there, speechless.

Kate and her friends slipped around the back of the library to the open grassy space where Ms. Hoskins held her Care of Magical Creatures classes. The moon was new and, apart from the glow from Kate's wand, the night was as dark as a coal mine.

They followed a path down from the grassy patch toward the small hidden gate through which Mr. Tragus had often brought specimens for them to examine. Mr. Tragus's hut was not far from the path, but all was quiet and there were no lights burning inside.

Kate stopped them with a gesture. She listened in the darkness for any telltale sign they were being followed.

At the gate, Will ventured to speak.

"What if there's a charm on the gate?" he whispered.

"I don't think satyrs can do magic," Kate said. "At least, not much. So it would have to be a pretty easy charm, wouldn't it?"

Sure enough, when they reached the gate they found it opened easily enough when Will forced the dead bolt to slide to the unlocked position. They all slipped on their Quodpot helmets.

Will and Felicia put their shoulders to the gate, and it opened with a creak.

"Which way now?" Will said.

"That way," Kate said. "We have to cross Powler Creek. Then we look for the path."

The other three lit their wands and followed in line as Kate led them down the gentle hill on which the Malkin Academy campus stood, to the bank of a creek. At the narrowest point, four great stepping-stones formed a bridge across to the other side.

"Look for hoof prints," Kate said when all had crossed Powler Creek. "Mr. Tragus wanders around out here all the time."

"Here!" Felicia called.

They gathered around. Felicia had indeed discovered cloven hoof prints in the mud. They made a path—or maybe two or three paths—up the opposite bank and into the trees.

The four of them stood, mouths agape, staring into a forest so black it seemed they could reach out and touch the darkness.

"Girls?" Will said. "I-I think I lost my happy thought."

"Do you want to go back?" Dana said.

Will looked across the creek. The campus wall was barely visible in the starlight.

"I guess I'd rather stay with y'all."

"Then let's go," Kate said.

They marched into the woods, wands aglow. Kate realized she had seen this path before. They inched upwards. Kate pointed them to the left at the fork. The march uphill was much less strenuous in Mr. Malleus's memory! The path veered to the right, then opened into a clearing at the top of Warlocks Ridge.

"What now?" Felicia said.

Without warning, Kate let loose a blood-curdling scream!

"Merlin's pants, Kate, what was that for?" Dana demanded.

"We've got to get her attention, don't we?" Kate said. "Now remember: We'll all try to hit her with Stunning Spells. Then Felicia and I will work Shield Charms while Will and Dana try to produce Patronuses."

From somewhere in the distance they heard a roar of a mountain lion. Only they knew it wasn't a mountain lion at all.

"And then?" Will gulped.

"And then we'll see if the rest of my plan works."

They stood in a circle facing outward, their wands illuminated and ready. It didn't take long until they heard a low rumbling in the trees: still, soft, and far away. Felicia heard it first and nudged Kate and Will, who were on either side of her. The rumbling was getting closer.

There was no other noise—no footsteps, no rustling of branches or snapping of twigs. It moved through the woods like fog: silently, effortlessly. Only the rumbling, which reminded Kate ever so slightly of the purring of an enormous cat, told them something was out there in the trees.

Kate became aware that her wand hand was cramping and sweaty.

"There!" Will whispered. The girls turned in his direction.

"I-I thought I saw something. Two big glowing eyes."

"Okay," Kate whispered. "Everybody get ready."

The woods were deathly quiet. There was neither the hoot of an owl nor the rustle of wind through the trees.

Four trembling wands pointed toward a spot at the edge of the clearing. Four pairs of eyes, by now accustomed to the darkness, peered into the trees, looking for any sign of movement.

The creature roared and bounded into the clearing.

Four frightened voices shouted "_Stupefy_!" Four jets of red light erupted from four wands. Three struck their target, which fell backward as if it had run into an invisible barrier.

"Sorry!" Will said. "My arm shook! I—"

"Shut up, will you?" Kate barked. "We need a Patronus! Now!"

Felicia had already attempted to produce a Shield Charm, but it wasn't getting anywhere. Kate shouted "_Protego_!" Her own bright, transparent blue barrier superimposed itself over Felicia's weaker one.

Old Tabbs shook its monstrous head and twitched its tail. It raised up again on two legs and bounded toward the children with a growl. Kate and Felicia's Shield Charms barely held it back. It charged into the blue barrier and drove them three or four steps backward with the force of its assault.

"_Expecto Patronum_!" Dana shouted. A tiny silver light flickered for a second on the tip of her wand before it extinguished. Kate could have kicked herself for not realizing it would be harder to produce a Patronus with an angry wampus cat breathing down their necks than it was in the safety of an empty classroom.

Will had no better luck.

"Don't make eye contact!" Kate shouted. The four of them huddled together, circling the clearing as Old Tabbs advanced on their position. "Will! Dana!"

"It's not working!" Will cried. "I told you I lost my happy thought!"

Dana clutched Will's arm. Kate moved forward, making sure her eyes stayed focused on the creature's torso and legs.

Felicia's Shield Charm had completely fizzled out. Kate's was starting to flicker.

The wampus cat roared as it sprang into the air.

Suddenly there was a brilliant burst of silver light.

It didn't come from Will's wand or Dana's—or for that matter from Felicia's or Kate's. It came from behind them and barreled through them like a ball of pure energy. The wampus cat fell back, startled. Between it and the children stood a gleaming silver form—four legged, with a lean doglike body, bushy tail, and pointed snout.

A coyote made of nothing but silver light bounded back and forth between Old Tabbs and Kate and her friends.

Kate's Shield Charm collapsed.

"Back away, children," a man's voice calmly but firmly called.

Kate risked a backward glance. At first, she couldn't see anything but trees. Then a human shape took form as if out of thin air. By the silver light of the coyote Patronus, she saw a tall, gray-haired man in a long black cloak, blue jeans, and moccasins.

"Kate!" Dana shouted.

The wampus cat had once again regained its footing. It growled at Kate.

"Since you're here, Zardgrog, you might as well give us a hand," Mr. Corntassel called.

There was a disgruntled "Hmph!" A bright transparent blue dome formed over the wampus cat. At the same time, four irritable goblins appeared from behind the trees.

Old Tabbs fought against the blue barrier but could not get through it.

"What are you doing here?" Zardgrog spat.

"I might ask you the same question," Mr. Corntassel said. He turned to Kate and her friends. "But at the moment I'm more interested in knowing what _you're_ doing here."

"Mr. Corntassel!" Kate cried. "Jessica found you! I knew if I let her overhear me, she'd find a teacher."

"I haven't seen Jessica, Kate. Actually, I've been keeping an eye on our guests here." He indicated Zardgrog and his companions. "Now, what on earth is going on?"

"It's her! This is Leonora Perdue—the woman they say my dad murdered. But she's not dead. She's just…well…."

"Rubbish!" Zardgrog scoffed. "A desperate ruse! We know what you're doing out here, Miss Burroughs. You're after the cup!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Zardgrog, there isn't any cup," Mr. Corntassel said.

"But we heard—"

"I expect you heard what Miss Burroughs wanted you to hear. Much like her younger classmate, I expect she arranged for you to overhear something that would put you on her trail. But this," Mr. Corntassel indicated the trapped wampus cat, "is an interesting development."

He peered into the wampus cat's eyes, his Patronus at his side. He shifted his wand to his left hand. He reached into a leather shoulder bag he wore underneath his cloak and pulled out a small thermos flask. He had Dana unscrew the lid, then he poured the contents into it and held it under the wampus cat's nose.

The wampus cat seemed to calm down. Its eyes changed from blazing yellow to brown, with round pupils instead of slits.

"Catnip tea," he explained, "with a few other secret ingredients." Old Tabbs lapped up the drink with abandon.

"Do you always carry catnip tea around?" Will asked, incredulous.

"Only when I hear goblins talking about taking an excursion to Warlocks Ridge," Mr. Corntassel said. The Herbology teacher turned to Old Tabbs. "Can you understand me?"

It nodded its head.

Mr. Corntassel allowed his Patronus to dissipate.

"I don't think we'll need your Shield Charm any more, either," he told Zardgrog. Light brown hair was growing out of the creature's head. Its feet and legs began to assume human proportions.

"Will, I believe Ms. Perdue would appreciate your cloak, if you please."

"Huh? Oh!" Will quickly doffed his cloak and handed it to Mr. Corntassel, who spread it over the almost human form in front of them.

"Unfortunately, the transformation will only be temporary. Perhaps no more than a minute or two." He addressed the still-changing form. "Do you remember your name?"

The creature pawed at the ground.

"Look!" Will cried.

The creature that was once Old Tabbs had used a finger to trace crude letters on the ground: N-O-R-A.

"I was right!" Kate said.

"You were remarkably lucky," Mr. Corntassel said. "But I'll deal with you later." He turned back to Leonora Perdue. By now it was clear that was who this was. She seemed as young as Kate remembered her from the photo in her dad's school trunk, but years of living as an animal had robbed her of her beauty. There were dark circles under her eyes, and her skin was parched and leathery. She shivered under Will's cloak.

"Leonora, do you remember me?" Mr. Corntassel said. "Magi? From the school? You sat between Mr. Sparks and me at faculty meetings."

She gazed up into Mr. Corntassel's eyes with a mixture of recognition and fear. Zardgrog and the other goblins stood stunned.

"Do you remember what happened between you and Henry Burroughs?"

She nodded again.

"Was he your accomplice?"

She shook her head.

"This is ridiculous!" Zardgrog shouted. "How do we know that this is the real Leonora Perdue and not some elaborate hoax?"

"It's her, Zardgrog. She was my colleague for a year, remember?"

"T-tried…" she whispered in a scratchy, unpracticed voice.

"You tried to make him your accomplice?" Mr. Corntassel suggested.

Zardgrog paid no attention. "If you are truly Leonora Perdue," he thundered, "then where is the Cup of Kings? Does Henry Burroughs have it?"

Leonora growled at the goblin, but now with a human voice.

"Please, Zardgrog," Mr. Corntassel said, "a little patience, please."

"This creature must be taken into custody," Zardgrog insisted, "where she can be properly questioned and—"

"Yes, Zardgrog, in due time."

"I will not tolerate any more interference in my investig—"

Her lunge for the goblin took everyone by surprise. She knocked Mr. Corntassel flat on his back. The catnip tea was wearing off. She threw off Will's cloak and bounded for the still shouting Zardgrog.

"No!" Kate shouted. Instinctively she cast a Stunning Spell. The wampus cat's tawny fur seemed to absorb the blast of red light. In a second, it had turned on Kate, instead. In a second it was on top of her. It held Kate's wand arm in its fangs and shook it like a rag doll. Its claws dug into her sides.

Kate could feel its hot breath on her face. She closed her eyes tight—but not before gazing directly into the creatures blazing yellow eyes.

She was paralyzed with terror like she had never known before. It was as if she were reliving every fearful event of her entire life, everything that had ever made her run to her mom or dad for comfort and assurance.

She fell off her broom. She heard strange noises in the dark. Her grandma died. A tornado nearly blew their house apart. The goblins arrested her father. Those and a hundred other fears flooded Kate's mind.

Everything began to fade.

_This is what it's like to…_

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

There was a scuffle. The weight on her chest was pulled away.

She dared to open her eyes.

Someone had blasted the wampus cat off her. The goblins were in disarray. Will, Dana, and Felicia were at Kate's side in a second.

Mr. Corntassel sat up, dazed, rubbing his head. There was blood on his cheek where the wampus cat slashed him with her claw.

"Who...?"

The glowing Patronus at the wampus cat's heels was a badger.

Mr. Malleus had set his imposing form between Old Tabbs and the children.

"Uh..." Kate groaned.

And then she passed out.


	22. Into the Darkness

As soon as Jessica heard what Kate said about Warlocks Ridge she knew she had to find a teacher. She only waited at the door long enough for Kate and her friends to disappear into the darkness before she illuminated her wand and headed across the back lawn of Osserly Hall in the direction of the faculty cabins.

As she stood on the cobblestone path, however, she realized she didn't have the slightest idea which teachers lived in which cabins!

She looked around. Time was wasting. She decided any teacher would do, so she ran to the first cabin on the right. She pounded on the door until it was opened by a tall, bearded teacher pulling on a plain, gray housecoat.

"Mr. Malleus!" she cried. "Kate's in trouble! We need to go help her!"

Jessica quickly explained about Kate's planned excursion to Warlocks Ridge. Mr. Malleus first frowned, then scowled.

"Irresponsible little..." he muttered. "Miss Robinson, thank you for telling me. Now, go back to your dorm. I'll handle things from here. He slammed the door.

Jessica turned to go, but she somehow couldn't bring herself to step off of Mr. Malleus's stoop. Her friend was somewhere on Warlocks Ridge. Old Tabbs was out there, too. Kate may not have realized how serious that was, but she did. Surely there was a better cure for her goblin problems!

She gasped. _That's it!_ she thought. _There_ is _a better cure for her problems—_all_ her problems!_

In a second Jessica had concocted a plan. There was no way she was going to let her friend face Old Tabbs without all the help she could bring.

But there was a problem. She looked around again. How would she ever find the particular teacher she needed? The question answered itself, however, when she noticed a light on in the cabin directly across from Mr. Malleus's.

Madame Glapion opened her door.

Mr. Malleus stormed out of his cabin, fully dressed and wand drawn.

"Miss Robinson, I thought I told you to go to bed!" Mr. Malleus barked.

"What in the world is going on out here?" Madame Glapion said.

"Madame Glapion!" Jessica cried.

"Is that you, Jessica? Chère, you're out way past curfew. You'd better hightail it back to your dorm!"

"Justine, I've got to go," Mr. Malleus said, already jogging down the path toward Osserly Hall. "It's an emergency. Can you make sure Miss Robinson gets back where she belongs?"

He didn't wait for Madame Glapion's answer.

Madame Glapion looked down at Jessica.

"Would you like to explain what's going on, Jessica?"

"No! I mean, Madame Glapion, we don't have much time." She decided simply to blurt it out. "Last month in Potions class you told us about Cure-alls. You said you were making one for your seventh-years."

"Yes?" Madame Glapion was apprehensive. She glanced into the darkness in the direction Mr. Malleus had vanished.

"Well, I was wondering," Jessica said. "Would it be okay if I borrowed some?"

The rest of the story spilled out of Jessica like potion from a leaky cauldron. Madame Glapion's eyes grew wider at every detail. At last, she invited Jessica into her cabin. She flew to a cabinet in her tiny kitchen and pulled a small glass vial down from the top shelf.

"Don't use this unless you have to, Jessica. It's a very powerful potion."

"I understand"

"Be careful, chère."

"Yes, ma'am. Thanks!"

Jessica tucked the vial in an inside pocket of her cloak. She bounded down the cobblestone path, across the back lawn, and straight to the broom shed.

She found an old Firebolt. Like all the school brooms, this one had seen better days. Still, it looked fast enough. With a sigh, she mounted the broom and kicked off. She was halfway to the wall before she realized she had forgotten to sign it out!

_Oh, well_, she thought. _I can apologize later_.

She flew out over the campus wall by the light of the stars. She thought about trying to create wand light, but she wasn't confident she could fly properly with one hand on her broom handle and the other pointing her wand. She found that, as her eyes grew accustomed to the moonless darkness, the starlight at least gave her a visual cue about which way was up and which way was down. She sped out over the woods, flying as close to the tops of the trees as she dared, hoping to hear or see something that would tell her where Kate and her friends were.

She realized she had no idea what time it was, nor how long she flew. All she knew was that her friend was in trouble.

Nor did she prove to be as capable a navigator as she might have hoped. She didn't dare fly too far from the campus, where porch lamps on all the buildings gave her a landmark by which to find her way home. Once or twice she dared sit up on the broom and hover while she lit the tip of her wand and pointed it downward into the treetops.

At last she saw a flash of silver light on the ground ahead of her. She took a deep breath and began to descend in the direction of a clearing in the trees.

Mr. Malleus had found her! He was holding Old Tabbs at bay with some kind of silver badger. The goblins were there. One of them had levitated the wampus cat five feet into the air. Mr. Corntassel was also there. He, Will, Dana, and Felicia stooped over another form that had to be Kate, all with wands aglow.

Jessica came in for a rough, but acceptable, landing. She ran to Kate. Dana was feeding her a chocolate frog. Mr. Corntassel was pulling a bloody gauntlet from her arm.

"Jessica! What the—?"

"Is she all right?" Jessica demanded.

Dana looked up to Jessica with tears in her eyes.

"I don't know," Mr. Corntassel said. "She made eye contact for a good long time."

"And it bit her!" Will said. "Mr. Corntassel, does that mean she'll...?"

"Is that Miss Robinson?" Mr. Malleus thundered. "I told her to go to bed!"

Jessica ignored him. She knelt down beside her friend. They had propped her up in a sitting position. Her eyes were half open, but there was no sign she was conscious.

"I-I brought her this." Jessica pulled the vial her cloak. "It's some of Madame Glapion's Cure-all. Do you think it would help?"

"Give it here," Mr. Corntassel said, and took the vial from Jessica's trembling hand. He unscrewed the metal cap and gently tipped the contents into Kate's mouth. "We need to get her to the infirmary. Jessica, do you think you can fly ahead and let them know she's coming?"

She nodded silently.

"Jacob," he called, "I'll leave you and Zardgrog to deal with Ms. Perdue."

"With _who_?"

"Zardgrog will be happy to explain it to you, I'm sure. Now, children, if you'll follow me, it's time we get back to campus."

* * *

><p>Jessica landed in front of Derwent Hall and left her broom lying on the ground. She ran in at once, tore through the student commons, and burst into the infirmary reception room. The portrait of an elderly witch with long, silver ringlets nearly sprung from her leather armchair as Jessica blasted through. She was all-ears as Jessica told Nurse Payne, the healer on duty, about the wampus cat attack. Nurse Payne quickly began gathering ingredients and concocting a healing potion. By the time the potion was boiling properly, Mr. Corntassel entered the room, levitating Kate behind him. Will, Dana, and Felicia took up the rear.<p>

Nurse Payne promptly shooed everyone from the infirmary but Kate and the Herbology teacher. The four students waited in the commons for word of Kate's condition.

Minutes later Mr. Corntassel joined Will, Dana, Felicia, and Jessica. He sported a bandage on his cheek.

"We'll know more in the morning," he said. "She's sleeping. Nurse Payne has given her a healing draft and I'm on my way to my office to brew some more catnip tea. Nurse Payne doesn't think the bite infected her—those Quodpot gauntlets saved her arm and probably spared her from…well…from anything worse that might have happened.

"But there is something else I have to take care of," Mr. Corntassel said, and his voice, usually so lighthearted and friendly, turned solemn. "What you did tonight was terribly foolish. You could have all been hurt. You could have been killed!"

Will and the girls hung their heads.

"Therefore, I'm taking five points from each of you for breaking curfew, ten points each for leaving campus without permission, and another fifteen points for sheer, unmitigated stupidity!"

No one had seen Mr. Corntassel this upset before.

"Furthermore, Felicia, I expect that you are the culprit responsible for stealing school property from the Proudfeather Quodpot equipment locker. I think an additional ten points from Proudfeather will underline the fact that stealing is not acceptable behavior at Malkin Academy, even if you believe you have a good reason."

"Yes, sir," Felicia said.

They couldn't bring themselves to look their teacher in the eye. For a long time they all stood in silence.

"On the other hand," he said at last. "I admire your determination to stand by your friend in her hour of need. You obviously put a lot of work into this plan—as ill advised as it was—and things could have turned out much worse. And, it seems in the process you've solved the mystery of Old Tabbs.

"And I must say," he grinned, "whichever of you thought of wearing Quodpot armor is a genius!"

Jessica and Dana dared look up into Mr. Corntassel's deep brown eyes. Will and Felicia soon followed suit.

"So I will also award each of you ten points for creativity, loyalty to your friends, and courage in the face of danger. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some catnip tea to brew."

"M-Mr. Corntassel?" Jessica said.

"Yes, Jessica?"

"Will the Cure-all help? I mean, does it really work?"

"I've never known one of Justine Glapion's Cure-alls to fail. Kate's more relaxed and, as I told you, it doesn't look like her arm is infected. But I'm sure Madame Glapion explained that a Cure-all isn't strictly speaking a healing potion. It's far more creative than that!"

"What do you mean?"

Mr. Corntassel looked at his watch. "It's nearly morning. Let's wait and see what the morning brings."


	23. A Parting of Ways

With a _crack!_ Leonora and Henry appeared out of thin air. They were on the covered bridge that led from campus into Malkinville. They were miles from where the Aurors had swarmed in on them.

Henry clutched at his left hand.

"You splinched me!" he cried. "Son of a—"

"I suppose you'd rather the Aurors take you away?" Leonora said. "Oh, come here."

She waved her wand over the wound and performed a Healing Charm to stop the bleeding. It still hurt like fire, however. Henry looked at his hand in disbelief. The tip of his pinky finger was missing. He knew it was miles away at the clearing on top of Warlocks Ridge, probably trampled into the mud in all the confusion.

"Nott said the cup was a fake," Henry said. "You wouldn't have the real one lying around somewhere, would you?"

"Poole and I thought we were stealing the real one from Mr. Vasilikos. He must have tricked us. Us and…anyone else who might have wanted to get his hands on it."

"So…the real one is still in England?"

Leonora looked deeply into his eyes, but didn't say anything at first. At last, she said, "I suppose."

"I think I need to turn you in."

"Or not," Leonora said. "Two thousand Scepters is a lot of gold, Henry. A man could go anywhere he wanted with that kind of money. And this," she lifted the metal flask she still held in her hand, "gives me the freedom to go with you."

"That flask has something to do with why you fell in with Poole and Nott in the first place, doesn't it?"

"Nott promised to give me this in exchange for my services," she said. "It promises to solve a lot of problems."

"I don't know what he had on you, Nora, but he's out of the picture now. The Aurors got him."

"They got him, but I doubt they'll be able to keep him. If I know anything about Mr. Nott, he's a slippery son of a hag. I have to leave, get as far from here as possible before he gets out on some technicality—or busts out of whatever jail they decide to hold him in.

"You could go with me."

"Me, or my two thousand Scepters?"

"Don't be that way, Henry."

"I can't help it, Nora. I'm sorry, but I made a promise. People are counting on me. Let's get back to campus and explain the whole thing to Mr. Towne. I know he'll do whatever he can to help you."

"I don't think that will be good enough, Henry. I'm free—finally free—and I intend to stay that way." Leonora slashed at Henry with her wand. A spark of crimson light jumped to his chest and he slumped to the floor.

By the time the Stunning Spell wore off, Leonora was gone. Henry pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and rubbed the blood from what was left of his pinky finger. He stumbled back to campus in the dim light of daybreak. He headed straight for Derwent Hall.

A lone figure sat in the student commons, her head in her hands.

"Callie?"

Callie Dunlap looked up, startled.

"Henry!" she said. She noticed his finger wrapped in its bloody handkerchief. "Henry, what happened?"

"I'll be alright," he said. "I'm just tired. I've had a long night. How's Miles?"

"Miles is fine," she said, averting her eyes. "I just broke up with him."

"You what?"

"It just wasn't working out, Henry. It's hard to explain. He has a short temper, and he's always too quick to judge. Do you know he still thinks you're somehow responsible for putting him in here?"

"He'll come around," Henry said, without a great deal of conviction.

"And he's awfully jealous. He thinks I've been seeing you behind his back while he's been laid up."

"No!"

"I just couldn't take the arguing any more."

"You deserve better, Callie."

"Thanks. What about you and Ms. Perdue? I hear you've been seeing a lot of her lately. She's _much_ to old for you, you know…."

"Actually," Henry interrupted, "that didn't work out exactly the way I had expected. She…uh…Well, I guess you could say she broke up with me, too."

"Well," Callie said. "I suppose I can at least say, 'That's too bad.' She was really pretty."

"She's not the only pretty girl at this school," Henry winked.


	24. The Cureall

They walked as a group to the Quodpot stadium to return the stolen padding. Fortunately it was still dark. No one saw them magic open the door and hang everything back in its place. They knew they would have some explaining to do, however, as soon as Liza Dunwoody saw what Old Tabbs's claws and fangs did to her equipment!

When the sun rose at 7:40, all four of them were sitting together in the Dining Hall at the far end of the Proudfeather table, exhausted. No one approached them, but they couldn't help hear the whispers of students who had noticed on the tally boards in the entrance hall that Proudfeather house had lost seventy points overnight and Fairgarland had lost twenty. It didn't take a wizarding genius to figure out the hag-ridden students sitting by themselves at the end of the Proudfeather table were the reason.

At last Jennifer Brown dared to approach Jessica.

"Jess, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she said, lacking conviction. "But Kate…." She told her friend about Kate and Old Tabbs and how they were waiting on news from Nurse Choake.

"Do you suppose that explains the goblins?"

"What about the goblins?" Jessica said.

"They left this morning. I got up early and realized you hadn't come to bed, so I was out looking for you. That's when I saw one of them hauling their bags out of the Guest House. He didn't look happy."

"Really?" This was the first good news Jessica had heard in a while.

"I wonder what that means?"

"It means they're off to Louisiana." Mr. Corntassel suddenly appeared behind them. "The Lycaon Institute, to be precise."

"What?" Will cried.

"They've taken Ms. Perdue there. Mr. Malleus just told me. She has the answers they're looking for, and they are determined to get them out of her. Perhaps goblin magic will prove more effective than our own in restoring her human mind and body. At any rate," he smiled, "you'll be glad to know that they have at last conceded that the creature they captured is, in fact, Leonora Perdue. The murder charges against Kate's dad have been officially dropped."

The four students cheered. "They're releasing him this morning. He and Mrs. Burroughs are coming straight here to check on Kate."

"That's fantastic news!" Dana gushed.

"Now, it's almost eight o'clock," Mr. Corntassel continued, "I don't want you to be late for cl—"

But it was too late. Will, Dana, Felicia, and Jessica had already leaped up from the table and were halfway out the door. As soon as they hit Osserly Hall's front lawn, they broke into a run toward the infirmary.

They burst into the reception area. Mrs. Choake turned on them at once. "Stifle that racket!" she hissed. "Don't you know I've got a sick kid in here? I swear, you'd think I was working in a zoo instead of a school!"

"Sorry, Nurse Choake," Dana said. "We've come to see Kate. Is she all right?"

"She'll be fine," Nurse Choake said as she pushed the foursome out into the hallway. "I expect she'll be jumpy for a few days. Don't make any sudden movements or loud noises around her until the fear is completely out of her system. But you did the right thing by giving her chocolate right away. And Mr. Corntassel's catnip tea will steady her nerves, too."

They all sighed with relief.

Soon the entire school was abuzz with the news about the goblins leaving and the mystery of Old Tabbs and Kate and her friends' adventures on Warlocks Ridge.

Neither Jessica nor Dana nor Felicia nor Will felt the slightest urge to go to class until they could visit Kate. Grudgingly, Nurse Choake allowed them all to go in one at a time for five minutes ("…and not a second more!").

Later that morning Mr. and Mrs. Burroughs appeared at the infirmary. They hugged all Kate's friends and sat with them in the student commons and listened to every detail of last night's ordeal.

"Now," Mr. Burroughs said when the story had come to its thrilling conclusion, "if only I could get those blasted goblins off my back!"

"What do you mean!" Will said. "They let you go, didn't they?"

"They dropped the murder charge, Will," Mr. Burroughs said with a sigh, "but they haven't given up on the cup. They're hoping to question Leonora further at the Lycaon Institute to find evidence I was her accomplice all along—that I've still got the cup hidden somewhere!"

"But she'll tell them the truth, won't she?" Dana jumped in. "If they can transform her again, even for a minute or two?"

Mr. Burroughs pondered this possibility. "I don't know if they'd believe her. They may decide she's so far gone mentally that she doesn't know what she's saying."

Jessica felt a tear trickling down her cheek.

_Why isn't the Cure-all working?_ she wondered. _It hasn't done anything. Nurse Choake is taking care of Kate's injuries. Mr. Corntassel's catnip tea solved the "murder." Did Madame Glapion make a bad batch after all?_

She couldn't think about these things too long, however. A little before ten o'clock Mr. Corntassel came by to insist that all of them attend the rest of their classes. By then, it seemed the entire school had heard about their previous night's excursion. And though they were dumbstruck at the dangers their classmates had overcome, they were also disheartened at how many house points it had cost them.

They couldn't worry about this long, however. In the excitement, Jessica had forgotten that this was Halloween night. The Dining Hall was decorated with floating jack-o-lanterns, and strings of orange lights were draped over the hunting trophies on the walls. All of Malkin Academy's ghosts were welcomed as guests of honor. They floated among the students and faculty, making small talk with the living and sharing old stories with the dead.

Beginning the next morning, Jessica, Aisha, Jennifer, and Susan kicked their preparation for the upcoming Transfiguration competition into high gear. They reviewed their notes on all the tricky spells they had been learning and even came up with a song to help them remember Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration.

For her part, Ms. Goates spent her free time that week searching the campus for interesting things to transfigure: plants from the greenhouses, small animals from the woods and grounds, silverware from the kitchens, and assorted trinkets from who knows where. By the end of the week she had amassed an impressive trunk full of inanimate subjects and a small zoo of living specimens, which she shut up in a large reception room off the Dining Hall, where she magicked the doors so only she could open them.

As soon as supper was over the following Monday Ms. Goates magicked away the long student tables in the Dining Hall and replaced them with rows of stiff-backed chairs for well-wishers, both faculty and fellow students. She then vanished the faculty table and chairs. In their place, she conjured a bank of chairs for the competitors. At the center of the raised platform, where months before the Brazier of Sorting had stood, she placed a small wooden table.

By 6:30 forty-two first-year students had climbed into their seats in front. Nearly all the faculty was there. So were fifty or sixty older students, mainly those with first-year brothers, sisters, or cousins. Kate, Will, Dana, and Felicia had come to cheer Jessica on.

One by one, Vice Principal Goates called a student to the center table and demanded he or she perform the transfiguration she specified. She started with fairly easy tasks. In the first round, Jessica had to change the color of a rat Ms. Goates provided from gray to yellow. In the second round, she had to turn strawberries into strawberry-flavored soda, although in her excitement she nearly forgot to add the fizz.

At every step, students were eliminated when they failed to perform the assigned task adequately. By the third round there were only about a dozen students left, more or less evenly distributed among the four Malkin Academy houses. As expected, Marcus Poole advanced in every round. Every time he did, his eyes shot daggers as Jessica, Richard Kam, and practically everybody else.

Jessica only began to notice the increase in difficulty during the fifth round. By then, Ms. Goates had begun springing harder spells on them: Switching Spells, animate-to-inanimate transfigurations, and so forth. Her assignment in the fifth round was to un-transfigure a crow that had previously been transfigured into a crowbar.

The sixth round began with only six students still in the running: George Weathersky from Fairgarland, James Berry from Quickfang, Jessica and Susan from Proudfeather, and Alejandra González and Marcus Poole from Strongfoot.

"You still think you can win, Robinson?" Marcus whispered while watching George Weathersky mess up a Switching Spell he himself had performed flawlessly weeks before.

"Maybe," she answered.

"But you're not sure, are you? You probably wouldn't want to bet on it."

Jessica concentrated on Ms. Goates as she explained what James Berry had to do to advance to the next round.

"I'd let you off easy," Marcus continued. "Say, if I win, you have to transfigure your uniform yellow for a week."

"Why not until Thanksgiving break?" Jessica said before she realized the words were coming from her mouth.

James Berry's Switching Spell in round six sputtered. Instead of switching places between a blue ball in one container and a yellow ball in another, he ended up producing a single green ball that was twice as big as it should have been.

"And I suppose you'd expect me to wear black in the highly unlikely event that you win?"

"Not at all," Jessica grinned as the idea came to her. "I expect you to wear a skirt!"

Marcus gasped.

"What's the matter? Afraid of getting beaten by 'something that starts with an M'?"

Somewhat reluctantly, Marcus extended his hand and they shook on it.

Susan Jacobs barely advanced to round seven. Ms. Goates gave her a garter snake to turn into a stick. But the stick ended up having a scaly texture that Ms. Goates was about to deem unnecessarily snakelike. Fortunately, Mr. Corntassel asked to examine the stick and declared that it was, in fact, not too far off from the pattern one might see on a hedge maple. Even so, Susan was eliminated in round seven when her attempt to turn a hedgehog into a pincushion completely fizzled.

It was round eight, and there were only three contestants left: Jessica, Marcus, and Alejandra. Alejandra messed up her task when her Engorgement Charm failed to increase the diameter of the pumpkin on the table.

"There are now only two contestants left," Ms. Goates announced. "From here on, if one contestant fails to perform his or her assigned task, the other must succeed at the same task in order to win the tournament. If both fail, we shall play additional rounds until there is a winner."

It was Marcus's turn.

Ms. Goates placed a crystal vase on the table in front of him.

"Mr. Poole," she said. "Your task is to perform a blind un-transfiguration." The first-years gasped, and so did some of the second-years. Un-transfiguration was hard enough when you knew what the object was supposed to be, but at least then a competent witch or wizard could concentrate properly on the object's true form.

Ms. Goates continued. "Early last week I transfigured something—perhaps living, perhaps inanimate—into the form you see before you. Without knowing its true nature, you must reverse my spell and return the object or creature to its original state. You have three minutes. Begin."

Marcus stared intently at the vase. If anyone didn't know better, they would swear he was trying to read its mind. He stared at the ceiling for at least thirty seconds, counting off things on his fingers and muttering to himself. Jessica knew he was going over the proper procedure for a blind un-transfiguration to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. She was doing the same thing!

At last, Marcus waved his wand over the vase and pronounced the proper incantation.

Nothing happened. He tried again. The vase sat on the table, unchanged.

A whoop went up from the Proudfeather students, which Ms. Goates quickly cut off with a gesture.

"Miss Robinson, it is now your turn." Jessica went to stand in front of the vase. "You have three minutes. Begin."

Like Marcus, Jessica simply stared at the vase for several seconds. She glanced at the crowd. Kate, Will, Felicia, and Dana shot her smiles and thumbs-up. She took a deep breath. She waved her wand and uttered the incantation.

Nothing.

She took another deep breath. _Concentrate!_ she ordered herself. She tried again.

The vase vibrated ever so slightly. Jessica stared even harder.

It began to glow with a pale, blue aura.

She felt waves of magical energy stronger than she had ever felt before, rippling from her chest, down her arm, through her wand, and onto the vase.

It began to shrink, to darken. Its glassy luster faded to that of black marble. It curled up upon itself and took on the shape of a bird. It was no longer a vase but a three-inch tall marble falcon.

This time there was no silencing the cheer that erupted from the Proudfeather spectators.

"Well done, Miss Robinson, you've discovered the paperweight I borrowed from Ms. Ruiz…"

"Wait!" Jessica called.

Something was wrong. The magic refused to be finished. Jessica tried to break off the spell, but found that she couldn't. If anything, the intensity of her spell was increasing. Try as she might, she could not pull away her wand.

The falcon paperweight continued to vibrate, and as it did, it grew! Its luster changed again, from stony to metallic. Its color lightened and brightened from black to brown to amber to gold.

At the same time, the falcon changed its shape. Its wings spread out over its body and it assumed a crouching stance. The falcon's head transformed into the head of a lion. Finally, a gold drinking vessel sprouted from the winged lion's back.

At last, the spell was broken. Jessica whipped her wand away so fast she nearly wrenched her arm out of its socket.

It took her a few more seconds to realize that no one was cheering any more. Everyone stared at her, dumbfounded.

Kate gasped.

The Cup of Kings sat silently on the transfiguration table.

Ms. Ruiz, the Charms teacher, uttered a curse in Spanish. No one knew whether to look at her, at Jessica, or at the golden cup that lay between them.

Principal Towne bounded to the platform far more energetically than one would have thought possible for a man his age. He circled the table, not daring to touch the cup. He waved his wand.

"_Aguamenti_."

A stream of water gushed from the tip as from a faucet. In a matter of seconds, the cup was filled. He peered over into it.

"I wonder what Zardgrog is up to," he mused. The water stirred and took on a golden glow. Principal Towne, Vice Principal Goates, and Jessica all bent over to see. What they saw was a familiar bat-eared face, scowling up at a wizard in drab brown robes. He was arguing with the wizard about the details of Ms. Perdue's treatment.

"Well, I'll be splinched," Principal Towne said—then blushed at his own language!

"M-Mr. Sparks left that paperweight in his office when he retired," Ms. Ruiz said. "I-I didn't know…"

"Of course you didn't," said Mr. Malleus. "I've seen that thing in the Charms teacher's office for…Merlin!"

"For fifteen years," Ms. Goates finished the thought. "It used to belong to Mr. Sparks. All of us teachers have seen it hundreds of times. I'll bet…"

"I'll bet it was left over from his onetime assistant," Mr. Corntassel said.

"…who needed a safe place to hide it…" said Mr. Malleus.

"…and never had the opportunity to retrieve it," said Principal Towne.

"But, this is amazing!" Ms. Goates said. "It was there for fifteen years, transfigured to look like a simple paperweight. What are the odds that I would have chosen to use it for this tournament? Or that Miss Robinson's spell would reach deep enough to reveal its true nature?"

Awareness suddenly dawned on Jessica. She glanced at Madame Glapion and could tell she was thinking the same thing.

"A Cure-all seems to find a way if it's strong enough," Jessica said.

"It sure does, chère." Madame Glapion smiled.

"Athanasius," Mr. Corntassel said, "if I might be so bold, I think you should send an owl to the goblins immediately to tell them that we've recovered their cup for them—and that we can conclusively prove that Henry Burroughs has been innocent all along."

"Indeed," Principal Towne said. "If you'll excuse me, I believe I'll do just that."

With the tension broken, all Jessica's friends gathered around her. She only then realized that she was the winner! She smiled from ear to ear as everyone gave her hugs and pats on the back.

When at last they left her alone, Jessica walked over to Marcus Poole. He was still sitting in his chair on the stage, his head in his hands.

Jessica cleared her throat.

"Here to gloat?" he spat.

"No," Jessica said. "I'm here to say I don't care about your stupid bet. You don't have to wear a skirt. You don't have to do anything."

"You won," he said, dejected. "I keep my promises."

"Marcus, I know we're never going to be friends. But I'm tired of being your enemy. To be honest, so is everybody else."

Marcus looked up at her.

"I can't change who my parents are. Neither can you. But I'm not my parents, and I don't want you to judge me because of what you think of them.

"I'm not exactly sure I won this contest fair and square. So wear a skirt, or don't wear a skirt. It doesn't matter to me. But do you think we can at least try to be civil to each other? I will if you will."

She held out her hand.

"I guess," he whispered, and Jessica could tell he was holding back tears.

They shook hands.

* * *

><p>The following morning Principal Towne announced that Jessica Robinson would be awarded fifty house points for solving the mystery of the Cup of Kings. Combined with the twenty points she earned for winning the Transfiguration tournament, this erased the seventy points Proudfeather house had lost on Warlocks Ridge.<p>

As November progressed and the weather grew gradually colder, there was warmth in her soul that burned brighter every day. Other students, even fourth- and fifth-years, called her by name and said Hello to her in the hallways. Jeremy Loew wrote a nice story about the Transfiguration tournament for the _Caterwaul_ that praised both Marcus and Jessica for their skills. She even noticed Marcus flying around campus one Saturday afternoon with two of his roommates, Thomas Ogden and Mark Trittenheim.

That same afternoon, Kate took Claudius Poole aside and told him she would always be grateful for the way he took up for her dad, but that she wasn't interested in being anything more than friends with him. He seemed to take the news fairly well, only sulking for about two weeks.

The day before Thanksgiving, Mr. Burroughs arrived at Malkin Academy to take Kate home for the holiday. Jessica followed along, and the three of them boarded a Greywand bus in Malkinville headed to Edmundville and Cauldron Bottom.

"See you Sunday!" Kate called as Jessica bounded from the bus later that night in front of her house.

"I'll be waiting!" Jessica answered.

She shifted her suitcase from her right hand to her left and sprinted up to the porch, where her mom and dad were already waiting.

* * *

><p>Author's Note: This concludes my first attempt at a full-length story. My daughter has requested a sequel, and I've got a couple of ideas in mind. If you'd like to read more about the goings-on at Malkin Academy, let me know. :-)<p> 


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